PN 4291 
.03 
Copy 1 



PRICE 25 CENTS 



FRIDAY AFTERNOON 

DIALOGUES 




T $. DENISON 

PUBLISHER CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS. 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid » Unless Different Price is Given. 



COMEDIES, MELODRAMAS, Etc. 

M. F. 

All That Glitters is Not Gold, 

2acts,2hrs 6 3 

Arabian Nights, 3 acts, 2V^ hrs. 

30min 4 5 

AuDt Dinah's Pledge, temper- 
ance, 2 acts, 1 hr 6 3 

Beggar Venus, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 30 

min..... (25c) 6 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs.(25c) 9 3 

Bonnybell, operetta, 1 hr.(25c) 2 5 

Caste, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 30 min 5 3 

Chas. O'Malley'sAunt, 50 min. 

(25c) 5 3 

Chimney Corner, 2 acts, 1 hr. 

30 min 5 2 

Consort of Heroines, 3 scenes, 

35 min 16 

Cricket on the Hearth, 3 acts, 

1 hr. 45 min 7 8 

Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs.. .. 7 4 
Down in Dixie, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 

30min (25c) 8 4 

Early Vows, 2 acts, 1 hr. (25c) 4 '2 

East Lynne, 5 acts, 2 hrs 8 7 

Elma, The Fairy Child, 1 hr. 

45 min., operetta (25c) 5 8 

Engaged Girl, 3 acts, 30 min.. 2 7 

Eulalia. 1 hr. 30min (2oc) 3 6 

From Sumter to Appomattox, 

4 acts, 2 hrs. 30min..(25c) 6 2 
Fruits of the Wine Cup, tem- 
perance, 3 acts, 1 hr 6 4 

Handy Andy, Irish, 2 acts, 1 hr. 

30min 8 3 

Home, 3 acts, 2 hrs 4 3 

Indiana Man, 4 acts, 2 hrs. (25c) 6 4 

IroD Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs. ..(25c) 5 4 
It's All in tts Pay Streak, 3 acts, 

lhr.45min (25c) 4 3 

Jedediah Judkins, J. P., 4 acts, 

2 hr. 30 min «25c) 7 5 

Lady of Lyons, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 30 

min 8 4 

Let Love But Hold the Key, 

musical,lhr (25c) 2 2 

Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2U hrs. 

15 min (25c) 7 4 

London Assurance, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 

30 min 9 3 

Losl in London, 3 acts, 1 hr. 45 

m?n 6 3 

Louva, the Pauper, 5 acts, 1 hr. 

45 ^in 9 4 

Man irt/m Borneo, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c)..., 5 2 

Michael Erie, 2 acts, 1 hr. 30 m. 8 3 
Miriam's Crime, 3 acts, 2 hrs... 5 2 
MlT,su-Yu-Nissi, Japanese Wed- 
ding, 1 hr. 15 min 6 6 

Money, 5 acts, 3 hrs 9 3 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 

New Woman, :i acts, 1 hr 3 6 



M. p. 
Not a Man in the House, 2 acts, 

45 min 5 

Not Such a Fool as He Looks, 3 

acts, 2 hrs 5 3 

Odds with the Enemy, 4 acts, 1 

hr. 45 m 74 

Only Daughter (An), 3 acts, 1 

hr. 15 min 5 2 

On the Brink, temperance, 2 

acts, 2 hrs 12 3 

Our Boys, 3 acts, 2 hrs 6 4 

Our Country, 3 acts, 1 hr 10 3 

Ours, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 30 min 6 3 

Out in the Streets, temperance, 

1 hr. 15 min 6 4 

Pet of Parson's Ranch, 5 acts, 

2 hrs 9 3 

Pocahontas, musical burlesque, 

2acts, Ihr 10 2 

School Ma'am (The), 4 acts, 1 

hr. 45 min 6 5 

Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs 6 6 

Sea Drift, 4 acts, 2 hrs 6 2 

Seth Greenback, 4 acts, 1 hr. 

15 min 7 3 

Snowball, 3 acts, 2 hrs 4 3 

Solaier of Fortune, 5 acts, 2 

hrs. 20 min 8 3 

Solon Shingle, 1 hr. 30 min 7 2 

Sparkling Cup, temperance, 5 

acts, 2 hrs 12 4 

Sweethearts, 2 acts, 35 min.... 2 2 
Ten Nights in a Barroom, tem- 
perance, 5 acts, 2 hrs 7 4 

Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

2hrs (25c) 6 4 

Ticket of Leave Man, 4 acts, 2 

hrs.45min 8 3 

Tony, the Convict, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 

30min (25c) 7 4 

Toodles, 2 acts, Ihr. 15 min... 6 2 
Topp'sTwins, 4acts,2hrs.(25c) 6 4 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 15 

min , (25c) 8 3 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 1 hr. 

45 min 5 4 

Under the Spell, 4 acts, 2 hrs. 

30 min (25c) 7 3 

Wedding Trip (The), 2 acts, 1 

hr 3 2 

Won at Last, 3 acts, 1 hr. 45 

min 7 3 

Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 



A successful list. 



T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 163 Randolph St., Chicago. 



Ii 



FRIDAY AFTERiNOON SERIES 

OF DIALOGUES. 



A COLLECTION OF ORIGINAL DIALOGUES SUITABLE 

SCHOOL ENTER- 
TAINMENTS. 



BY THE k ^ i HOR OF 



Odds with the Enemy, Initiatinc- a Granger, Wanted, a Correspcndent 
A Family Strike, Seth Greenback, J^ouva. the Pauper, Hans Von Smash, 
Borrowing Trouble, Tv/o Ghosts in White, The Pull-Back, Country 
Justice, The Assessor, The Sparkling Cup, Our Country, Irish 
Linen Peddler, The School Ma'am. Kansas Immigrants, An 
Only Daughter, Too Much of "7 ' "'.ing, Under the 
Laurels, Hard Cider. The Da^ \"7ide Enough 

^ for Two, Pets of Society, : .:r In? The 

New Woman, Paisy 0'V\ f.n?. Ke;ec:ed, Only 
Cold Tea. Madam. P"s Beautv Parlors. 
Topp's Twins, A First-Class Hotel, It's 
All in the Pay-Streak, The Cobbler, 
A Dude in a Cyclone, A Con- 
vention of PaDas, 



ALSO THE NOVELS 

The Man Behind, An Iron Crown, My Invisible Partner, etc. 



CHICAGO : 
T. S, DENISON, Publisher, 

163 Randolph Street. 



Copyright, 1879, by T. S. Denison. 



r 



Copynffht Entry 

OlA^S A XXc, Nb. 

COPY B. 



niLliiuJiU S'lMiiiii^ r ^^1 JL. X»imi«rjfl^ 3I. Jk^ > 



FAGE» 

A Domestic Wanted ..c..,...., 3 

The Secretary >> . 6 

Getting up a Picnic. .. , , ic 

The Ghost in the Kitchen » » . . 13 

Temptation Resisted , , . , . 17 

The Boaster Rebuked, .c,... o.. 19 

The Tea Party . . , o . , . 23 

The Bashful Boy ^ » ^ - . . <> 27 

The May Queen ^ « c . , . , . 31 

The Anniversary. , 33 

The Runaways . . ^ ...„,. 37 

TheQuack ^ ,,........ 42 

The Debating Society . - . , « . » . . 48 

The Amusement Circle . ■ o 53 

The Patent Right Agent 57 

The Society for the Suppression of Gossip * . 61 

A Lawsuit . . . , .~ 65 

Lost Opportunities 7i 

An April Fool 75 

Always Too Late . o 78 

Scandinavia {a Charade) «... « = «.... 80 

Grateful, '' .., 83 

Scintillate ** • • 85 

Intensity ** • ^^ 

Stockade ** . • Qi 

A Parlor Entertainment 94 

Lessons in Cookery » » * 107 

The Traveller i09 

Taking the Census , . , » ii3 

The Paper Don't Say .... ...■•... « ^^^ 

Copyright, 18S9, by T. S. Denison. 



A DOMESTIO WANTED. 



Mm. Wimoh. 

^™^- I Katkina. 

Jrr». Tr»2*<>7j, M^^ ad'om-tue$ for a domestic, seated. EnUr S^ak 

Sarah Vm not very particular, ma'am whether T t«lrA a r^1o«^ 



r f,^™^- , The wry i<;sf ma'am, i 'm always been particular 
./neve, < ngage m a faniilv that ian'fcnVo/ .;„o^ im ...^":™™i*^' 

I lous, un 

' wui volr'f, ;!"'^r ■ ■ '^ '■ '■!^£^'^ Tf propriety, J 



i ' - - - . a /.> . ^.r - ; -"^ ^^f ^ i^ri^jlrst Uasi. I'll starve befor^ 

'-^ ^ -^ .--. f a io^, unja-Hhionable place. "c*v/i« 

see. 



strtj. vviii YOU nit a>« t'l' '5:,nr^r^9 Aoxr ^^^i^v *^» • 

.en.ant«,yourdr,i:;vv .. ...^Xaf^^'P °"*^ *^° 

em*''Tberme "';"• '?';"«ral duties mean drudg. 

tS cook wh™' : ,^'^ ^"^"''^' J^i^d-lm's, an- helpiS' 

comp''ai?ed of 'l„..., .,..,, .,, „, ^J^' ^^ myserraBts have never 

Sarah. My Mat is light cluim ber work, an' I guess I'll sHok tr 

my^hne, an' cooks may stick to theik wKj ^JoTpa^^' 

Mrs, W, Four dollars a ?r?ek! 

always an<^ i ^or jl^jj. iVe had five dollai^ 

\i/ta TIT T ^" 'S V \ "^'i'' ••^iiiiUay afternoons to myself 

fc/ r Snf ^1r-?;'^^ ?'^^ "^"^ SundaySnoon. 
oj.ran. i coujun't possibly chano-e mv cimtnrn Tf TTr^., « 
give way, y,,u may be alwa'ys givfn- 4y In^iJvP^" >f°^' 

vanu to understand thHr» ' certamly expect my ser- 

px*V .9«,.aA.) What imL^°SeT I dPcl^rTu-r^ explanations 
brazen creatures soma oF^^i^^^^^^l^ 



4 A. DOMESTIC WANTED. 

tan rids. They expect to do little or nothing, and tell Iheli 
mistress how and when it shall be done. Here is another appli- 
cant (Enter Bridget) ^ «*j #«^« « ^.a^ 

Bridget. Good mornin* mum! I see ye advertise for a gude, 
genteel domestia I thought I'd be after seein' ye. 

Mrs.W. You can give references I suppose? 

Bridget. Av course! I've saived Mrs. Fitz Poodle of Ruby 
street an' Mrs. Saiat Saphire of Dimund Avenoo, knows me. 

Mrs TF. Then you have never served plain, ordinary people. 

Bridget Niverl I've always moved in the tip-top circles. 
I've known a dale of foine people. 

MrH W I*m afraid then that you wouldn't suit us. 

Bridget. Oh, I mane, mum, that the people were only ex- 
3txoodin'y ordinary people. ^ , , 

Mrs. #. Oh, I seel Extraordinary ordinary people, and what 
may that mean ? , ^e . i 

Bridqet Just this, ma'am, that they were very fome people, 
but not as foine as they might be. Mrs, Fitz Poodle onc't belonged 
to the common people, I belave. 

Mrs.W. Very probably! 

Bridget, For me, give me a plain, slnsible woman like yer 
self. 

Mrs, W, Can you do all sorts of work! ^ ^ , 

Bridget Ma'am, I prefm- light chamber work, but I donl 
mind answerin' the dure bell onc't in a while. 

Mrs W. I wish a servant-of-all-work. I keep a cook, however 

Bridget I'm thinkin' the duties would be a trifle heavy for 
me, as I'm a bit delicate like. {Enter Dinah.) 

Dinah, Missah, I saw de advertisement, an' called to see about 

de place. .__»-. x •. ». j 

Mrs. W, Take a chair! I will talk to you. What place had 

^^Br^dget (Aside,) It's a shame that nagurs should be takin' 
the bread out 'o dacint white people's mouths. 

Dinah. Last place, I was de lady's maid. 

Mrs, W. But I want no lady's maid. 

Dinah. I could oversee de chamber work. 

Mrs, W* Ch&rsee it! I want no overseer. I want some one to 
^ the work. , . t. v. a 

Dinah., If de work ain't too heavy, dat might be arranged 

Mrs W, I wish a servant who can do all kinds of housework 
without instructions, and who is willing to work. Can you scrub 
imd build fires, and wait on the table? ^ ^ v, 

Dinah. Don't know about de fires ! I could wait on de tabie 
I understand de way scrubbin' ought to be done. 'Spect 1 could 

oversee dat. ^ ^ .^ ^ u^ ^.^^. 

Mrs, W. I keep but two ierrants, and I wish cme wlM) una^- 
stands lOl these things. 



A DOMESTIC WAirrSD, § 

Bridget, I gtippose, ma*am, ye allows the servants toresare 
eompany in the kitchen, an' gives them one avenin' out In the 
week besides Sunday, accordin' to custom. 

Mrs, W I should wish first to know what the company was 
and should not encourage frequent calls, I allow only Siindav 
evenings. "^ '^ 

i Af^^^^.^^\ (^^^^^') J*^ afraid she wouldn't suit me at all 
{Aloud,} Are there any children, ma'am! Children are ver? 
tiymg to the nerves. ^ 

Mrs. W. No children I 

£pdget Well, ma'am, I can't say that ye exactly suit me, but 
I thiuk I'd take tne place for five dollars a week. 

Mrs. W. I could not pay so much. Four dollars is all I have 
paid. 

Bridget Four dollars for a drudge ! I niver heard 'o the likes 
Let me say, ma'am, that if you want to buy a slave ye ouffht to 
pay a better price. Good day, ma'am. (Sails out in highdudg. 
eon.) ^ 

Dinah. Mlssah,I'll take de place at dat price. 
Mrs. W. But you will not suit You can not do my work. 
Dinah. I's been in de best families. 

Mrs. W. That I do not doubt, but I'm sorry to say yoU would 
at suit me. (Exit Dinah.) Still another ! Come m! (Entev 
Katrina.) ^ 

Katrina, (Shyly.) I come about te place for ein serfant ml 
Mrs.W, You are German, I see! 
Katrina. I bin seven years from Chermany. 
Mrs. W. Can you do all kinds of work ? 
Katrina. Yal I lives mit my fater an' mutter. ^ I plant te ear- 
ten an' feed te piggies, an' chops te stove wood. 

Mrs. W (Aside.) Dear me! How ignorant she is. (Aloud.) 
Can you build a fire in a furnace ? 
Katrina. In te lime furnace ? Fater works in te lime furnace 
Mrs. W. Goodness no! The furnace in the house. 
f/^ftna. Furnace in te house I Dat will purn te house up. 
Mrs. W. Can you do chamber work ? 

Katrina. Chamber! Vat is dot work ? I tink I could do it 
1 takes te place. 

Mrs. W. I'm afraid you wouldn't suit me. I think you are 
pot used to the kind of work I wish done. Can you scrub and 
iron ? 

Katrina. Well, I tink I could scrub. I've seen dot done. We 
scrubbed two or tree times at our house since I was biff enous-h 
to remember. Can I haf te place? ^ 

Mrs. W. I think you couldn't do my work. 

Katrina. Well, dot's funny. I thought I could do efery kind 
of work. (Exit.) ^ 

Mrs. W, This getting a servant is absolutely dreadful. Here'a 
halt the morning gone, and there'll be fifty more her© just lilw 
tflose I've turned away. ^{Bit^ 



TEE B'EOEETAMY, 



THE SEORETAEI. 



03^A.3R»-^OT:B^®i 






Ckahleb. 
Akthxjb. 

WiLU 



George. What will we do this evening, boys ? 

James, Let's debate. ^ „ t. *%.- * 

OharUs, I'm tired of debating when a fellow has nothing le 

lay. , . 

Arthur. Let's get up something new. 

Will, All right! Arthur, you propose something. 

Arthur. Suppose we organize a court and try somebody. 

Will Oh, that's old, and there's no fun in it. 

Eenry I think it would be just the thing to elect some one as 
secretary of something, and have the others come in to see him 
on business. Father has lots of fun sometimes with people who 
come into the office. 

James. That would be first rate. 

George, You know more about it, Henry. You start it for us. 

Eenry. All right, but you must do everything I tell you, boys. 

AIL Go ahead. We will! . 

Eenry First, then, somebody must be superintendent or presi- 
dent of some company, and somebody else must be his secretary. 
Georo-e you be superintendent of the Valley lUilroad, and I'll be 
your Secretary. You must put on a heap of style, and tell me what 
to do before you go away for the day. James, vou will be a man 
who has had some cattle killed by the cars. You will come in 
and want big damages, and threaten to sue the company, and 
may be want to whip somebody, , , ^ 

James. That'll suit me. I'll blow you up nicely. You must 
be gruff and refuse to answer questions, just like a real secretary. 

Eenry. Charlie, you may be the man who wants a pass over 
the road You'll have to be some sort of dead-beat i ou can be 
a congressman, or an editor, or a delegate to some kind ot con. 
vention. I won't let you have the pass, and you must get mad as 
a hornet Will, you may be. & loafer and bore me awhile. _ 

Arthm', What must I be ! Let me be a miiUonaire traveling 

for his health. , . ^ ,. ^ , *. *v«i. 

Een/ry> That would n^t do. Millionaires don't travel for ^elr 

health. They can't afford it It wouldn't look real. You be a 



THE SECRETARY. 1 

peddler and bother mc, and I'll get fighting »ngry and kick you 

out of the office, 

Arthur, That 18 n't exactly to my taste, 

AIL Can't get out of it now, Arthur. 

Henry. Remember you all agreed to do as I laid. Now get 
ready, while I fix ^aay desk and papers. {Exeunt all but Henry ^ 
w?io spreads papers plentifully over tJie table^ sticks a pen behind 
one ear and a pencil ^behind the other.) Now I'm ready. (Enter 
George.) 

George, (With offlHaZ air) Henry, I shall be absent this fore- 
noon on important business. In my absence you may make two 
copies of that contract between the company and the owner of 
the Plum Point gravel pit. Then you may foot up the reports of 
the agents for the last month, and answer all those letters in this 
mornmg's mail. If that is n't work enough, you may finish up 
those circulars. {Exit George.) 

Henry. Work enough for half a day! I should say sol That 
contract alone will take half a day. Guess he thinks I'm an iron 
man run by steam. {Fv^hes up his sleeves and begins to torite. 
Enter James.) 

James, blister, this is the office of the superintendent of the 
Valley Road, is n't it? 

Henry, {Gruffly.) It is, sir. What is your business ? 

James. W^ell, what have you to say about this last trick you*ve 
been cuttin' up. 

Henry, I don't know what you mean, sir. 

James. (Angrily.) Of course you don't Railroads always 
are mighty innocent I'll tell you what I mean. Your ingine 
has been killing my cattle. It's a perfect outrage, that's just 
what it is. I'm bound to have this made right, so I've come to 
headquarters. There were two steers worth $20 apiece, and a cow 
that wasn't worth a penny less than $40. Then there was a calf— 

Henry. Guess you're slightly mistaken, mister. 

James. Guess I'm not I suppose I know what I had killed. 
May be you'll say I have not lost any stock. May be you'll say 
I hadn't any killed last summer. May be you'll say I haven't had 
gome killed every summer since this tarnal old road was built 
But I can prove it Now see here toill you pay this bill f 

Henry. No, / won't ! 

James. {Threateningly,) Then I'll make you do it 

Henry. I tell you, you are mistaken. I am not— 

James. I tell you I'm not mistaken. If you say so, it's the 
same thing as telling me I've lied. Come out in flie yard and 
we'll see who is mistaken. 

Henry, I am not going out into the yard, but I wish you 
would. 

Joffoes. Mr. Superintendent, you can't get rid of me till that 
bill is paid. 

Henry, I am not the superintendent 

JamM. Then why didn't you say iw? 



S THE 8ECRETABY. 

Hmry. I tried to, bnt you wouldn't let me, 

Jame^, Is n't this another dodge to get rid of met I've read 
of your dodges. 

Henry, I ^assure you that I am only the superintendent's 
private secretary. He will be in this afternoon. See him, 

James. (Going,) 111 call again. Pm determined to have pay 
for that stock. 1 hope you are not oflended, mister. I wouldn't 
said what I did if I'd known it was you. 

Henry. That's all right. {Bxit Jame9.) He*s a tartar and no 
mistake. {Enter Arthur.) 

Arthur. (ApprGaching with pencils, blank books and stationery.) 
Lead pencils ! Very cheap I Three for five I 

Henry. (Without looking up. Gruffly.)) Don't want any. 

Arthur. Cheapest made ! Try one! 

Henry. We're supplied! 

Arthur. Got some very nice envelopes ! Ten cents a package. 

Henry. I don't wish anything to-day. Please leave the office. 
I'm busy \ 

Arthur. I*ve a novelty in the way of a pencil sharpener. 

Henry. (Curtly.) Get out ! 

Arthur. And some very cheap rubber bands! 

Henry. Will you get out, or must I kick you out. (Rushes ai 
Arthur who haMily exits. Henry seats himself to torite.) A plague 
on these peddlers! (Enter JVilL, seats himself and takes out ciga/r 
to sm^ke.) 

Henry. This is a private office, sir. 

Will. Very comfortable one, coo ! (Strikes match.) 

Henry. You can't smoke here. Have you any business to 
transact here ? 

Will Nothing special. Thought I'd drop in and see how you 
were getting along, 

Henry. We don*t accommodate loafers ! 

Will {With show of indignation.) I'm no loafer. Pm a tour- 
ist looking at the beauties of this region, 

Henry. Then you'll get a better view of the beauties of this 
region outside. 

^Will Ah! so? 

Henry. (Aside.) You look very much like a tramp. (Aloud.) 
Are n't you going ? 

Will. Certainly, if you wish it! Soon as I get a drink- (Starts 
toward water pitcher.) 

Henry. The pump is good enough for you. You can't make 
yourself at home that way in this office. Get out (Sta/rts to- 
ward Willy who Exits hastily. Enter Charles meeting Henry.) 

Charles. Good day, sir. (Offers his hand.) 

Henry. You have the advantage of me! 

Charles. Well, I presume you don't know me, though of course 
you've heard of me. My name is Roper. I'm grand-worthy -high 
master of the Antediluvian knights of the boxed comp^igg, a semi 



THE SECRETARY. % 

political, semi social, semi-religious, semi-ante-secretsociety 

organization. 

llenry. Indeed f Is it semi-ciroular too ? 

CJiarles. Hem \ not tliat I am aware of I'm on my way to & 
convention at Cindenrille. 

Henry. Indeed ! I hope you'll have a pleasant time, 

Charles. Thank you I It's a momentous occasion. Expectant 
nations hold their breath awaiting the outcome of our deliberations. 

Henry. Really \ I hope those proceedings will not take their 
breath entirely. 

Cha/rles. Hem! No, I suppose they won*t Young man, you 
are inclined to make light of serious matters, I'm sorry to say. 
The other road gave our party passes to this point. As a matter 
of course your road will extend a like courtesy to Cinderville. 

Henry. I have no orders to that effect. 

Charles, But I understand that you have discretionary poweri 
when your superior is absent. 

Henry. I exercise those powers only in a certain kind of cases. 

Charles. What, case, sir, can be more important than this? 
This is an occasion of tremendous moment Are you aware of 
that, sir? ^ 

Henry. I am not, sir. 

Charles. Then I am surprised at your ignorance. Will V 
give us passes ? 

Henry. I will not I don't know any of you. 

Cha/rles. I shall write you up in the papers. This is unheard 
of presumption on your part It is an insult to the great oide.) 
of which I am the head; it is an unparalleled outrage. Yo^ 
will hear of me again, sir. {Exit.) 

Henry. I've had enough of being secretary. A fellow get' 
blown up too oftesL {Exit^) 



ig OBTXmO UP A PlONia 

GETTIIG UP A PICMC. 



NKTTiB. ! ^^mi. 

Ella.. I^***., 

ATrfif « Now, girls, aad boys too, we've met to see about what 
«e'lldothelLt day of school' We always do Bomething, and 
a-s time we toew what it is going to be, I'm in fayorof a picmc. 

Ella. I think a lawn party would be just the thin g. 

Sf So'^aTpfcS "iVeTa'd of nothing butpiduics since 
I have heard of anything. I hate them. 

S'LeVstlveTflSparty. «id a moonlight sail on the 
^^%tUe. 8om« of th. folk« say we can't have any more moon- 
"^Sr' Hang some o' the folks, 1 say. ^They object just because 
th^vTre altttfe too old to be invited, and not old enough U> stay 

"ks'riotH'Bn^^'^4^^^o& 

S.''r,^i^WontttSrm'£tom^^^ 
T<m. Nobody asked you to. . .,,„ ,u,, „ 

John. I think a picnic would be just the thing. 
Neiti«. To be sure it would. Everybody can go to out. 
Edgwf. We don't want eveiybody. 

ElL If everybody goes it will be a perfect jam, and we can . 
aaveanyfun. J' « stay at home. 

a..^lSk yon threiT,«^, «f tf'^r^aS't'-haTe ^ 
Jessie. That's exactly what I think. It you can i nave j 

what you want, you won't have anything. , 

Tom. Guess we've a right to our opmion. Didn t the scnoo. 

^'!Fr." mVanrKvitatioa*. and ti^t will avoid having 

'"rr^^^Wrgoin- to write 'em. It will take half a day', time, 

sjid cost a dollar or two for note paper. 

Tfi'isi'iA Well not ask you to write tnem. .,, 

S mo is to\e incited! Each one of toe ^mmUtee^lll 

wimt to ask all of his friends, and hia friend s fnencU- laen 



GETTING UP A PICNIC n 

G'll have more tbere than if we just made it public, and asked 
- -reiybody ; because then half of tlitm wouldn't come. 

Edgar, 1 think we'd better have a play. 

Eila. You are always wanting to play something, or make a 
speech. 

Tom, And you always want to run everything, Ella. 

Ella. Tom, how can you say tbat ? I always have to give up. 

Tom. But you hate awfully to do it. A play wouldn't be half 
such a bore as a lawn party. 

Edgar, To be surest wouldn't. We will select some piece 
that's as funny as it can be. We're the committee, so we can put 
ourselves all in for parts. We'll have lots or fun rehearsing it 
and th(-u we'll go on the stage and play just as the '• Thespian, 
CJub" does. People will chetrus, and call us out after it's over 
and shower bouquets air over us, and next week the paper t\ ill 
tell ail about it. You can't get a picnic into the paper very easy. 

Nettie, Vy^'eil, I declare! - - 

Jessie. Just hear the bo3^ talk ! 

2\)m, You'd better rua for Congress, Edgar. 

Edgar, ^ I'm going io^„ Tom, when I get old enough. 

Nettie, What do you say to a play, John ^ 

Jolia. I'm agreed if the rest are. 

Jessie. I t'i'ink it might do. 

Ella, {Aside.) ^ 
: 'iow a nevf dress 
a moonliizht sail. 

Tom. {Aside to Ella.) All right! {Aloud.) I'm for a moon- 
light s;dl. 

^Ella. So am I. 

Kdgav, I'm for a play. 

John. And I think a picnic the best thing we can have. 

Nttiie, 8ee here! The schoo; didn't select this committee to 
meet here and wrangle, and make duoces of themselves by dis- 
agreeing. Let's decide on something, or else tell the school we 
are a set of ninnies who can't do anythii g. 

Edgar, You're President, Nettie. Put it to vote. 

Netie, In order that nobody may complain of unfair mean,^, 
we'll hear the arguments of all parties, and then vote. Edgar, 
y. umay advoca.e the project of having a dialogue. Tom may 
speak in favor of a moonlight fishing part}^ John, }ou may 
plead for a picnic. If nobody objects, we 11 limit the time to 
one minute for each speech. Edgar speaks first. 

Edgar. I object. A fellow caM't begin in one minute. He 
can't say anythiug. I think, Mr. President— I mean Miss Presi 
dent, that we ou.eht to have a play. In the first place it's lots of 
fun to rehearse the piece, and in the next place it's lots of fun to 
play, and hear people cheer, and see 'em throw up their hats, 
and get excited. They'll go away and say we're a smart set of 
scholars. There's nothing smait about a picnic. Kobody ever 
threw UD his hat, and cheered when a picnic went past. 



\de.) Somebody wants to appear on the stage, and 
Iress. {Aside to Tom.) Tom, I'll vote with you for 



m QwnmQ up a picHia 

T&m. Missus President, Fm not an orator like the gentiem^ 
that preceded me, and spoke just before I got up. He wants 
something that people wiii holler at Now, I say fishing in a 
boat with a lot of girls is just the thing. 'Spose you catch a big 
fish, and commence to pull liim in. You lean over the edge of 
the boat, and it tips a little. Then every girl in that boat screams, 
and catches hold of some fellow to keep from falling out, and the| 
hold on to him till the fish is in, and the boat righted. Under such 
trying circumstances, I've seen it take half an hour to get the 
tisli in, and when you get him close up, may be he gets away, and 
it's all to do over a2:ain. If you want plenty of hollerin', all you 
have to do is to tip the boat a little more, and the girls will 
scream till a lot of wild Indians are nowhere. Isn't that better 
than goins to a picnic, and sitting on the wet grass, and then 
gomg home with an awful cold to drink catnip tea all next week? 
llien, at a picnic, every spider in the neighborhood comes to 
swim' in the lemonade, and waltz all around down your back. 
Then, you must sit beside some girl and feed her cake and uxin's 
till she's plumb full, and you can't hardly get anything yourself, 
because when she's done it's all eaten up. 

John. I'm in favor of picnics. To sit beside some angelic 
fair one, and keep the spiders away from her, and nibble off the 
same piece of pie, and drink from the same glass of lemonade, 
sip about, is what I call a privilege. It's something that can't be 
done every day. So picnics were invented just for that purpose. 
The gentleman who preceded me don't know what's good, that's 
all. ~ If his girl is such a big eater, he had better send her a note, 
and ask her to take a square meal before she starts, and then he'll 
have a chance to get something to eat. 

Nettie. Now, we're ready to vote. Write what you prefer on 
a slip of paper. (Collects the ballots.) Well, it's plain we cann 
agree. Two for a fishing party, two for a picnic, and two for 
the play. 

John. Can't we compromise some way ? 

Nettie. (Aside to John.) I have a plan. We II use a little 
strategy. (Aloud.) Edgar, would you give us a recitation at the 
picnic? 

Edgar. Oh, yes, certainly ! 

Nettie. Ella, would you sing a solo for us, and have some 
other pieces prepared by the school ? 

Ella, riltry! ^ ,^ ^^, 

Nettie. Now, let's vote again. (They ballot ^ Nettie (m- 
riouncss result.) Five for a picnic, and one for a fishing party. 

Tom. I'm that one. I say it's foolish not to go a-fishmg, but 
ril not oppose the majority. 

John. Tom, if you must fish, we'll have a big tub taken to the 
grounds, and stocked with minnows. Then you can fish and be 
'h the picnic, too. 

Tom, All right That^U do. {EmeuTU^ 



THE GHOST IN THE KITCHEN, U 



THE GHOST IN THE KITCHEN. 



o^-a.:r.ja.oxb»s* 



iDiL 

Julia. j Hakby. 



May, Ida, I've been reading such a nice book, to-day. It ii 
full of interesting stories. One of the best of them was about & 
ghost, a real nice, sensible ghost, 

Ida. (Shudders.) May, I don't like to hear about ghosts, 

Harry. That's because you are afraid of them. That gid 
won't |o down cellai* or into the kitchen in the dark after an 
apple, if she never got one to eat 

Edward. I'd like to see the ghost that could scare me away 
from the apples. 

Ida. Pshaw ! Ed, don't boast of your bravery. Have jom 
forgotten the white cow you saw one night ? 

Edward. I wasn't scared as bad as you were, I guess. 

Ida. I think you beat me home, anyway, brother. 

Harry. I'll wager he did. 

Edward. I pretended I was scared just to see you run, Ida. 

Julia. How the boys boast 

May. Ed, the ghost I read about would frighten you, I know. 
He used to come into a bed room in an old house. He was a very 
tall man, with a long velvet cloak, and a big sword longer than 
himself- He would come into the room and sit by the table, and 
write wills till whoever was in the room was scared nearly to 
death. If the person in the room got out of bed, or said some- 
thing, the ghost would jump up, and preXend to be frightened. 
He would then plunge the sword clean through himself thre^ or 
four feet, make a face at you, and go up the chimney quicker 
than a wink. 

Idxi. Oh I don't tell such stories, May. 

Ha/rry, You call that a sensible ghost, do you ? W©11, 1 dc©*t 
Wkal was ^^ use oi bis makiiig faees, aiid'th^ i^oi^mg awa|^ 



H THE GH08T IN THE KITCHEIi. 

up tlie chimney ! If he had just made faces and stayed where he 
was, the other fellow would have hid under the bed clothes, and 
never said a word. Then the old chap in the green cloak could 
naTe written wills till he was tired. 

Edward. Do you know what I*d do if I should see that 
ghost ! 

Julia, Get frightened into fits. 

Edward, Kot a bit of it. I'd go to the chimney first, so he 
couldn't get away. Then I'd say to him, " Old gentleman, if you 
don't tell us pretty quick what you're about, I'll take the trouble 
to find out." ^ T^ 

May, The idea! You wouldn't know what to do. If a per- 
son had time to think, there wouldn't be any fun in a ghost; but 
they don't give you any time, and that's how tljey always get the 
better of a person. , , ,, 

JvJAa. I'll tell you what I'd do. Fa just ask the old man 
to leave me half his fortune in the will he was making. 

Ida, How did they know he was making a will ? 

May, You know he wouldn't need to write letters. He 
could come through the kej hole and tell people what he wanted 
to say. So I suppose it must have been a will. 

Ida, Let's not talk any more about ghosts. There isn»t any 
such thing ! 

May. Oi course we know they don't exist except in books^ 
but then it's fun to think they're around. 

Edward, If there are none, Ida, you needn't be afraid any 
more to go down cellar after apples. ^ Come, sister, it's your turn 
to bring up the apples and nuts, to-night. 

Ida. Come with me, Ed. 

Edward. Nonsense! You're afraid. Take the candle. 

Harry, I believe you're afraid, too, Edward. 

Edward, No ; I'm not. It is her turn to go. 

Ida. Suppose we have a game of ** Pussy wants a comer'' 
first, and then all go after the apples. 

Julia. I will go, Ida, I am not afraid of ghosts. I know 
the way. {Takes candle and starts.) 

May. Wouldn't it be funny if she did get frightened. (A 
icream is heard outside, and Julia rushes in.) 

Julia. Oh, dear! There is something in the kitchea. I nearly 
ran against it, 

Ida, Dreadful! 

May. What is it like? 

Julia. It's white, and has red ^es. 

Edward. Pooh! You're scaredLI 

Harry, You go, Ed, 

Edward, I-—!— I-— 

May. You're afraid, dif 

Edward. No, I'm not ; give me the candle. (Takes ccmiU emd 
€7U6T$ kitchen^ Init runs hackimmediat&ly.) 

dU. Whallsitf 



THB GHOST m THE KITCHEJS- i^ 

Edward.. It has arms as long as a fence rail, but its eye& are 

green instead of red. 

JuUa. I say they're red ! 

Ida^ Oh, dear t what shall we do I Let*s lock the door to keep 
It out of this room. 

Julia. Pshaw! a ghost can go right through a key hole. 

Harry. May, you've read a great deal about ghosts. You 
think they are verv nice beings ; suppose you go and see what 
it is. 

May. Vm not afraid anyhow. IMl tod out what it is. {Takes 
the fire-slwdel and candU, Entert kitchen. Drop^ both with a 
gcrsarn^ and ru7u back.) 

May, {Dropping helplessly into a chair.) It is awful. Its 
eyes are as blue as a brimstone blaze, and it shook its head at me. 

Ida. We'll lock the kitchen door, and wait till father and 
mother come home, 

Edward. That won*t do. They will laugh at us, and call us 
simpletons. Let's all get a stick apiece, and go in. 

Harry. Light another candle, and give me the poker, and I'll 
take a peep at tJie ghost with the terrible eyes, and the long 
*rms. (Takes candle and poker^ and enters kitchen cautiously. A 
^ra-sh of breaking gki$s is hsc/rd^ then a laugh from Ha/rry^ mhc' 
returns.) 

All. (Breathlessly.) What is it ? What is it? 

Harry. (Laughs heartily.) Tb at- s too good! 

May. (Impatiently.) Weil, what was it ? 

Harry, (naughs.) Its eyes were red, green ^id hlue^ and i\ 
winked at you. (Laughs again.) 

Edward. Harr}% don't be. a dunce, but tell us what it did. 

Harru. It had arms as long as a fence rail. (Laughs) It 
just took its head in its hand and jumped out of the window, 
eyes and all. 

May. Harry, don*t be foolish ! What was it! 

Julia. Tell us quicki- 

Ida. I was so frightened I 

Harry. Well, I guess you weren't scared worse than the rest of 
as, only we didn't own it" Well, you see there's a bolt of white 
muslin leaning against the wall. "That's the bodv. A little roll 
of floor oil cloth atone side made the arm as long as a fence 
rail, and the old cat sitting on top made the head with the red, 
and green, and blue eyes. I didn't wait to give the ghost a 
chance, but threw the poker right olf, and the ghost's head went 
through tie window, and to<^>k a pane of glass with it {AU 
■ laugh.) 

> May. Ghcsts are a humbug. 

1 . Ida. Ill never be afraid of another one. 

\ Julia. They're silly I 

r Bdtoard. We must to that pane of glass before father coma, 

{ <a we'll neyer hear the last of The Ghost ih ths Kitchss. 



TBMrPTATION ESSISTEB. 



TEMPTATION RESISTED. 



OS2-A.:FtA.OT3BRS. 



Mausu 
Rose. 
Mattzb. 



Dick. 



icsKS L Violet, Mcmd, Ease, Wilbur, andDiek, pianning an m 
cursion party. 

VioM. We shall have the nicest kind of a partjr. We'll fish, 
and saU on the lake^ and elimb the cliSs after ferns till we're 
dredout ., ^ . 

Maud, Won't thai be nice! And we shall have such a nice 
sompany, too. There will be nobody there that we don't want 

Base. I'm so sorry that Mattie and Harvey can't be there. 
Couldn't we invite themf Taej would like to go, and they are 
both full of fun. 

Wilbur, I don't see why they cannot be invited, 

Violet. {Tossing her head.) Ill tell you why. It did well 
enough for them to play with us at school when we were 
children, but they can't expect to associate with us always. We 
must drop them sometime, and now is a good time to begin- 
This will be a select party. 

Dick, I guess you're right, Violet They can't expect to asso 
ciate with us aiwaj^ but 1 think we lose as much as ihey do, for 
Uiey would make more fun than any of us. 

Eo$e. I think it's too bad they can't go. Thejr would like it. 

Violet. You know we shall have an expensive lunch, and 
they can't bring any. 

Wilbwr. Pshaw, Violet! I'll bring enough for half a dozen. 
We'll put it all together, anyway. There'll be plenty for all. 

Maud, Mattie and Harvey are too proud for that They 
wouldn't like it; besides, they have no good clothes to wear. 

Diek, Itlii&k we ought not to invite them. They canhardlf 



TEMPTATION RESISTED n 

e^ect it I don't think Harvey coald go If he were Invited. He 

aas to work all the time since his father died. He has a job now 

cutting wood down by the lake. «> » jou now 

Rote. He is a real little man, I gay 

Wilbur. Not & bad boy I It's a pityhe'8 poor. 

VtoUt. {Pulliny out a handsome uatch) I murt be eolns 

Ma told me not to stay long. •«• uo gumg. 

Ro,e. Oh, what a pretty watch I That is yonr birthday prea- 
em from your father, I suppose. IVe never Ld it iTmy ^^dt 
yLooki at iDatch.) It must have cost ever so much. ^ 

tellmef* ^'^°^ ^°^ °""^^' ^^- ^**^«' wouldn't 

Maud. I wish my father would get me one. But he savs 1 

don't need a watch yet {Bxmnt alCj uutnesays I 

ScsNB XL Mattie and Harwy. 

Ea^. 80 we're not Invited to the excursion party, sisterl 
H^vey ' "^ "^ ^'^'' ^"^'^ wanted*^8omuchtogo, 

J^TrfJ^^A^^ ^^\ "^""'l SO, Mattie. I don't care for my. 

onffe goTng.*"'' ^""^ *''"' '""'^ ^^*« "^ We know every 

Hwrvey. Sister, let me tell yon Bomething. We must find 
other companions^ Violet Wilson and her set Int^d to cut oS 
acquaintance. We have to work for our living, and they do n^ 
Ihey don't want us in their circle. 6> " "''^J' "" aoi 

Mattie. It looks so, brother. 

Haroey It »« so, Mattie. I've seen it for a long time. We're 
not as well off as we used t» be. I don't care I straw for thi 
picmc on my own account I'm sorry you feel so badly. 

Mattie. Oh, don't mind me, Hai-vey. It grieves me that you 
enouS"^ ^ ^ ^^ " "^^'^ "^^''^ biforeyou are steong 

f/,"^1'T^^«t,^^ Tf w.?"-f P*^-*^* '■^^■■'^*^ '"°°«'' I'» be satisfied 
wilTsdrmefurmru^"^ "^"^ ^ ^^^ ^ "^^ ^^- ^teel says he 

SoSlf^gS;tu7n?p^sa?^S^'^- » -^^^ ^1 mamma. 
Ha^f^fAvli^lt^* 1'*''°'^ *!^™ "P ^Jiemselvea I'll work from 
Sldoes ^^'^ '^^''P *" '°°*'*' "''^ ia « day as Jack 

anStoVo^SSm"^^ ^'^^^ ^ wish yoa wouldn't have 

u^JT'^^ '^w ,f *P°"y Sood fellow, and he don't rut on ain 
like those nch folks that don't like our company. '****"" "^ 
^attto. I don't think he is honest Don't ^ intimate with 



IS TEMPTATION RESISTED. 

Harvey, Pshaw, sister ; you're too easily alarmed. I neTet 
saw Jack steal anything, and he never asked me to steal oay- 
thing. One must have chums, you know. 

Mattie. Do without chums rather than have dishonest ones. 

Harvey, Well, I guess you will do without, Mattie. Your 
rich friends have cut you, and you are too proud to go with poor 
folks. ^ ^ , 

Mattie, If Jack eyer proposes axxythiiig bad to you don't you 
listen to Mm a minute. 

Harvey. Sister, I guess you think I am about to become a 
highwayman. Jack knows me too well to propose anything dis- 
honest to me, 

Mattie, Beware ! Jack is cunning. (Exeunt) 

ScEim IIL Harvey aiid Jack. Harvey holding a gold wateh. 

Jack. This has been a mightv lucky day, Harv. That 
watch is worth more than we could both earn in six months. 

Harvey, But the watch isn't ours. Jack. We must restore it 
to the owner, if we can find him. 

Jack. Pooh I We donH know who the owner is, and we re not 
bound to hunt him up. We might give it to the wrong person. 
The owner is rich, and won't miss it much. 

Harvey. That doesn't make it ours because the owner is rich, 
and can afford to lose it. I think I know whose it is. You 
know Violet Wilson and a lot more girls and boys are down at 
the lake to-day sailing. Wonder if one of them hasn't lost it 
May be there's a name inside, (Opens the watch. Beads: " Via- 
let; from hm- father?') . , . , x... x. 

Jack, That's too bad! Harv, I think we ought to have what 
we find. See here! We'll not say anjnhing about it, and she will 
think the gipsies found it You know they're camped by the 
lake. 

Harvey, That wouldn^t be right, Jack. 

Jack. Didn't we find it? Then isn't it ours? Ill take it to 
the city and sell it Nobody will ever know. Who needs money 
worse than we do t I'U take all the blame, and give you half the 

^^nlroey. (Hesitating,) What could we get for it? 

Jack I believe we could get one hundred dollars at least 
See, it's a beauty. With your half you could pay your mother's 
rent for three or four months ahead, and get nice clothes for your 
sister, so she could go with the other girls. Then we could get 
a ffun between us, and go a^hunting whenever we pleased. 

Harvey. Maybe Violet's father will offer a reward, and then 
we can get that*'and not be dishonest 

Jack. Pshaw ! Old Wilson is too stingy ! He won»t give any 
reward worth having. Think what you can get for your slstei- 
You like her, don*t yon t 

Ha/r^ey^ Yes! 



THE BOASTER REBXJB3B1X |f 

Jack^ Tlien remember her! 

Harvey, I was just thinking of something she toM ma 

Jock. ■ What was that ? 

HarT-ey. She said never to do anything dishonest. 

Jack, Pooh! That's a girl's notion. We're not stealine the 
^atchl ^ 

nnrtey. But it IS just as bad. Hark I here comes Violet ai^ 
the party now, 

Jack, Slip the watch into your pocket I 

Harvey. Xo! Til return it to the owner. 

Jack, Harv, youY-e a fool I 

{Enter Violet, Maud, Rose, Dick, and Wilbur,) 

Eapey, Miss AV'iIsou, you have dropped your watch, and I 
found It. Allow we to return it. 

Violet Oh, ihank you ! I'm so glad I I never expected to see 
it again t 

ILirvey. Indeed ! you thought I'd keep it, did you ? 

VioUt. Oh, I didn't mean that I knew you would return it, 
If you found it, but I thought those dp^ies had it, as we saw they 
had just passed where me lost it. Thank you, Harvey. 
Harvey. You are very welcome ! {Exeunt Harvey and Jack,) 

Violet. He's a real good fellow, after all. I'm sorry he couldn't 
go to-day. ^ 

Wilbur. He should have been invited. Ill ask him and 
Mattie to my parties. ' 

Bone. So will I. I don't care if they are poor, they»re assood 
as anybody. (Exeurd.) i- » / s 



THE BOASTER REBUKED. . 



George. 
^^cx, j Aleck, 

WiLUB, I Kathab 



Jach,^ Boys, I wonder how George has spent the afternoon t 

Willie. I saw himdown at Smith's playing croouet as I pass© 



. playi..^ -,^.. ._.^^ 

He said he mtendc.^d to go a-fishiug aftpr he piayeci that game. 

Aleck. Then he'll have a wonderful fish story to tell when \k 
gets back, 

Nathan, Yes, ns to go in swimming he wil^ 

do something exti_. .. . ..e way of diving, or swimmlni 

arace, or something of that kind. 

Jack, George Is the worst fellow to blow Mi own h<Ha t^al I 



m THE BOAS-raiB REBUKED. 

Jlgdt. He Is so used to telling big stories that h« believw 

^Wm^' hHL think he is telling the truth. He geU. yery 
angry if you dispute anything he tells. , 

Mthan. I guess he don't mean to he about it, but he aoes 
wa^ r, Uh^tiU its best friends wouldn't reco|ni,e it 

Willie. Boys, we don't stop to think how hard i( I sometimes 
to tell the real truth. (All laugh.) 

beSe we doVt stop to thini .¥ i^^' }Pt\I^TZ,^X 
size of the full moon when she is rising. Let a half f; aofen per- 
Sim« LvVs and see how it comes out One will say the moon 
SbCrthan a dinner plate, another will say a wash-tub 
Z,ther a wagon wheel, another a haystack. Now Just look at 
Ae mom plt\ haystack in the distance, andyou will soonsee the 

^'f L'C But you cant always ha.^ a haystack to measure 
TOUT moon bv. What will you do then ! ,. m, „™.. „„. 

'^ rtC tIW don't mate your story too big. There's not 

"3if"^C^ou'tfnrif Geo'ge had something to mea. 
JtostSeTbfbe would be all right Boys, let's get him a 

t^Deline. (All laugh,) ^ . ^^ 

^.-m^ kavbe we had better get one apiece. 

a£ m^wnlvBthe matter, Willie? .If J^^^^^^^^^ 
t^&gjouV Ahl Ihaveit You were thinking of the crows, 

weren»tyou? 
Willie^ I was, Aleck. wmio« 

S. "^X^'S:; ir^r fsaw a lot of crows flying 

S IoTco1nnlSwniI^''"Z lut tbey a- makmg noise 
enough for a hundred." Then we went out and counted them. 
Bow many do you suppose there ? 

Wiiie. "^S were just eleven. I resolved that before I told 
.^TrtV^ino- hprpa«'ter I would think of the crows. , , , . 

?^.r There comeTGeorge now. Boys, well tist let him 

watch him carefully, i^nfer George^ ^. 

George. Boys, have you had a good tome this aKeraooi. . i 

^ /ai '"orwe've had a fait sort of time. We played ball till 
we were tired, and then lay in the shade. ukethift. 

George. Pshaw ! Catch me playing ball on a hot day like tim, 
«A«a toere is something better to be done. 



THE BOASTEB REBUKED, m 

Watha?^ i suppose you liad a first-rate time, George, tfell 

08 all about it. 

Ge&rge. Well, tm% I staid at home, and ate all the cherrieg 1 
wanted. At 3 o'clock I went down to Smith's, and Retta and 1 
played croquet against Charley Myers and Hose. We played 
seven games, the closest I ever saw. The first six games we beat 
time about. I tell you it was close. We fought for the dead 
post about half an hour each game. Charley calls himself the 
best player in town, you know. We agreed to let the seventh 
^ame decide the battle. Retta and I won. I tell you, Charley 
ieels blue. {Jack takes notes on a slip of paper,) 

Jack, What did you do next, George ? 

George. Then Charley and I went a-fishing dcmn by the 
bridge. We fished about an hour. 

Willis, Good luck I had you ? 

George, First rata, Willie. We pulled out fish as fast as we 
could bait our hooks. We gave them all away to that old brick- 
maker. He put them into his lunch pail, and took them home 
for supper. 

Aleck, Did you go in swimming! 

George, Yes, we were in about half an hour. {Jack takes 
notes.) Charley dared me to dive off the bridge. You know the 
bridge is thirty feet high, and the river is about forty deep under 
It. I dived off the bridge, and v/ent down till my nose touched 
the mud in the bottom, Charley backed out and wouldn't try it 

Jack. I call that good diving. 

Nathan. 8odoII 

George. As we were coming home, there was a runaway, A 
horse and buggy came down the street a-flying. A woman was 
crossing the street right at the Postoffice. When she saw the 
horse and buggy coming she fainted ris:ht down in the street 
The horse jumped clean over her, and never hurt her a bit That 
Mgfat man that works lathe corner drugstore ran out to pick her 
up. There was a baby carriage standing in front of the door. 
He didn't see it, and ran right over it, turning a complete som- 
mersault Boys, maybe you won't believe this, but, as that old 
^11 ow went over the carriage, he did it so nicely that he actually 
^ood on his head about two minutes before he tumbled over the 
other way» 

Willie, DidnH he have a rush of blood to the head! 

George. No, 1 guess not He picked up the womao^ mA 
carried her into the store. They worked with her about half an 
hour before she came to. 

Nathan, I heard she didn't get ran over al all, but fainted 
just as the horse passed^ 

^^rge. Well, I supposed she got run over, I saw her lying 
thert*, and how could the horse get past without running over 
iier. I didn't see it, as I was round the corner, but a boy said th® 
bcHsa mn square ov^ the woman. 



m THS B0A5TEH REBUEHEIB. 

Jadt, 0«orge, you kave spent a pretty queer aftemcMm. Tott 

played seTen games of croquet and fought for the dead post half 
an hour in each game. That is three hours and a half, to say 
nothing about the time it took to get ready to fight for the dead 
post. At the very least it took four hours for croquet. Then 
you fished an hour, and swam half an hour. That is fl^e hours 
and a half. Then you watched them work half an hour with 
the woman that fainted. Six hours. It must have taken half an 
hour, at least, to go to the river and back. Six hours and a half 
You began at 3 o'clock, and it is only 6 now. 

Otorge, If you're going to count every minute, and find fault, 
I won't tell you anything, 

Nathan. Are you sure you played seven games* 

Oeorge* Yes. I counted them. 

Aleck, George, how long did you fish t 

George, If you are going to pump me just to dispute ^at I 
say, I shan't tell you how long it was. 

Nathan. Clear it up, George. That's the best way. 

Jack, He said two of them fished an hour, as fast as they 
could haul them out, and then a man carried all the fish home in 
& quart lunch pail. They must have been very small fish. 

George. I meant we hauled them out as fast as we caught 
them. {All laugh) 

Willie, George, how deep is the water at the bridge ? 

George, {Pettishly) Measure it, if you want to know. I 
guess you can't deny that Father says it is thirty feet deep, 

Willie, It used to be, but it has filled up since the dam was 
built It is fifteen now. 

George, You fellows are always disputing what I say. 

Willie, Then be careful never to say anything we can dispute. 

Jack, George, there's one thing I forgot How long did the 
&t man stand on his head? 

George, Go and ask him. {Exeunt aU hit George^ laughing*) 
111 be yexy careful whsA X e^ k&re&^^. (fixiL) 



THE TEA FAKTY m 



THE TEA PARTY. 



o::o:.^9LaFL.A.oT:Ei3Ei.s, 



Mes. Gossip. 
Mks. Marttb, j Mrs. Jones, 

Mks, Smythb. • Miss Pbudbu 



(Enter Mrs, Gossip.) 

Mrs, SmyiliA. Good afternoon, Mrs, Gossip. Yon are in good 

.^ dme, I see. ,^ ^ ^ . « „ 

; \ Mrs. Gossip. Yes; I donH see any use, Mrs. Smythe, in folks 

! bein' too late everywhere tiiey go. I like to go early, and enjoy 
; myself. A body gc ts no time at all to chat when late. 
i Mrs. SinytJte. ' Have a seat 1 Let me take your things. 

/ Mrs. Gossip. Have you heard that dreadful report about J&x, 

I Simpson and his wife? 

{ Mrs. Smytlie. No ; what is it, Mrs. Gossip ? 

/ Mrs. Gossip. Dear met It's perfectly dreadful! Thev had 

/ another quarrel last night, and he struck her over the head with 

,' h boot, so they say. lie ought to be ashamed of himself, I think* 

/ Mrs. Smythe. 1 think so, too. 

/ Mrs, Gossip. It's a disgrace to the town ! 

/ {Enter Mrs. Martyr and Miss FrudeJ) 

! Mrs.Smyilie. Good afternoon, Mrs. Martyr! Ho"7 do yon do, 

\ Miss Prude ? 1 was afraid you wouldn't come. 

' Miss Prude. {Always languishes, and speaks in an affected 

tone.) Oh, I couldn't think of declining your ver}^ kind invita- 
, tion to tea. You alw'^ys have such nice company. Now, I 

never went to Mrs. Gobble's but once. 

Mrs. Gossip, i can't bear that woman. I think I'll quit Tisit- 
Ing her at ail, IVe not been there for a whole month. 
llr^. Martyr^ {Always speaks in a doleful tone.) Mra. Gobble 



M THB TEA FAKTl. 

isn^i a bad kind of woman, but she has a nasty eougb. it will 
take her to the grave sometime. 

Mrs. SmytJis. I don't know much about her. 

Mis» Prude, And you needn't want to. She hasn*t a bit of 

taste. 

Mrs. Gossip, And her biscuit is always sad. (Enter Mrs 
Jones,) 

All, How d*ye do, Mrs. Jones t 

Mrs. Smyth-e, I was afraid you weren't coming. Did you see 
Mrs. White, as you passed ? 

Mrs. Janes. No; the house was closed up, as if she wasn't at 
home. 

Mrs. Smythe, Then, I suppose she isn't coming. I*m sorry, 
for she's a very nice woman. 

Mrs. Gossip. I think she is stuck up. Everybody says so. 
I've invited her to tea three or four times, and she never came 
near. 

Mrs. Martyr. The poor woman is to be pitied. Her health is 
§0 poor. You know' her physician says she has the heart diae^'*'*^ 
and is liable to drop off any minute. 

Mrs. SmytTie. It's terrible to think of. 

Miss Prude. Oh, don't mention those horrid diseases, Mrs. 
Martyr. Disease is so unbecoming. Doctors must have no feelings 
at all, to dabble among sickness as they do. 

Mrs. Martyr. Don't say anything against doctors. They are 
necessary. We couldn't live without them. They've kept me 
up for twenty years. But I'm sinking. I'm resigned to it, and 
my husband is toa Poor man, I'm afraid he'll soon have to 
bury his wife, j 

Mrs, Jones. Well, why shouldn't he! It is to be expected ^ 
that we must be buried after we are dead. 

Mrs. Martyr, Oh, to be sure. I didn't mean that I wanted to a 
be cremated the way some folks do to attract notice, aod set * 
people a-talking, I only meant I don't expect to stay long in 
this vale of tears. 

Mrs. Jones, I don't expect to stay long either, but I don't 
worry myself about the time. It vnll come soon enough. 

Miss Prude. Oh, dear, don't mention doctors and graves, and 
medicines. One of them always reminds me of the other. I 
nearly faint at the thought 

Mrs. Martyr. I remember now, Miss Prude. The doctor did 
say your nerves were badly affected. 

Miss Prude. Oh, don't mention nerves, Mrs. Martyr. I can't 
bear to think of the horrid things. 

Mrs. Martyr. This is a suffering world. It is a dying world. 
Every one has some ailment. Doirt you think so, Mrs. Gossip ! 

Mrs. Gossip. Weil, I 'spose so ? Speaking of doctors, they say 
that the doctor calls to see uhal widow a good deal oftener thaa 
ker ea^e requires 



THE TEA PARTY, S5 

lfr«. Jones. Suppose he does I He is a single mail, and she is 

.ridow. Whose business is it ? 

Mrs. Qossip, I don't think it looks welL 

Miss Prude. Neither do I. 

Mrs. Smythe. If tJiev enjoy each other^s society, I'm sure no- 

Kdy else can object, Miss Prude. 

Miss Prude. (With a toss of the hsad.) People can have their 
opinions. It isn't good tastein him, I believe in taste, and she 
is old enough to be his mother. 

Mrs. Gossip. All he wants is her money. 

Mrs. Martyr. I don't think we ought to suspect people's 
motives too much, for they may suspect us; but I do think that 
widow ought not marr}^ again. She is on the road to the grave. 

Mrs. Smyths. So are we all. 

Misi Prude, Oh, dear I I feel faint ! 

Mrs. Martyr. This is a dying world. That woman has had a 
pain in her side for years. 

Mrs, Jones. (Aside.) Can't she talk about anything but 
aches and pains. (Aloud.) Ladies, I can't see that the -^v mow's 
money, or her age, or the pain, in her side, or the doctor's taste 
concern us in the least 

Mrs. Gossip. Well, I don't agree with that / take an inter- 
est in my neighbors. If you don't take an interest in them, 
whom can you take an interest in ? Oh, they say the editor is 
going to apply for a divorce. He's such a nice man. I pity him. 
Don't you, Mrs. Jones. 

Mrs. Jones. I don't know anything about it. I am interested 
In my neighbors too, but not in their private affairs. 

Mrs. Gossip. But people will think, and thev will talk too. 

Mrs. Jones, Borne people talk a great deal more than tiiey 
think. 

Mrs. Smythe. It is easier, I suppose. 

Mrs. Martyr. We can't help but think of people's sufferinga 
I've suffered twenty years, and I know what sympathy is in sick 
ness. I like to comfort people. 

Mrs. Gossip. Speaking of tliinking, reminds me of something. 
I don't mind telling you, but you mustn't breathe a word of it 
It's a secret You know the Smiths, down by the mill f 

Miss Prude. IWe heard of them. I think they are low peo- 
pie, with no taste whatever. 

Mrs. Gossip. Well, I guess you're abottt right theia 

Mrs. Smythe. I think they are very good people, 

Mrs. Jones They are! I know them. Some folks never can 
see any good in anybody, and always say the worst they know 
about a person. I'll stick up for my friends, no matter what 
people say. 

Mrs. Gossip. Oh, I don't say they are bail si lOl, Mind, Vm 
^nly telling what T heard. 

Mrs. J&MB. I know what il is. It is sboal Msry Sm^b. 1 
did yu&k tite 8I017 had j^l^ain of truth in it 



m THB TEA PARTY/ 

Mrs, Go$gip. MlBd I don't say it's irm^ I only say wnat 1 
heard Mary has ^ bean, and Mr. Smitk forbid his coming any 
more. Last night he came, and the old gentleman turned him 
out of the house, licked him out, I did hear. Mary went nearly 
wild over it, and they say sh© ran up and down the street scream- 
ing as if she was mad. 

MisB Prude. A very vulvar proceeding that I |' 

Mrs. Srnythe, I don*t believe she did it, ^ 

Mrs, Jones, I kn<fw she didn't. Mrs. Smith told me all about it. 

Mrs. Gossip, (Eagerlp.) Indeed! Tell us all about it, won't 
you, Mrs, Jones? ' , ,, » 

Mrs,Jone$. Mrs. Oo^p, it isn*l worth repeating, besides I 
despise tale bearing. 

Mrs. Gossip. Indeed! 

Miss Prods, Tale bearing is in wmj poor taste. (T$a bsU u 
heard.) 

Mr$.8myt7ie. Ladies, teJi is ready. {Allrine.) 

Mrs. Martyr. Doctors say tea isn't wholesome. But I differ 
with them there. Weoua^ht to be as cheerful as possible, though, 
when W6 eat It helps digestion. Oh, did you hear about Mrs. 
Dick's case. She has paralysis, you know. The doctor says sh* 
won't live a week. 8ha has no feeling in her right side. You 
can stick a pin into her arm, and she won't know it if she don't 
gee you. Her nerves are dead. The doctor says her liver is— 

Miss Pruds, Oh, dear! I shall faint, Mn. Martyr, if you men- 
tion those horrid nerves and thicgs. 

Mrs, Martyr. Pardon me. Miss Prude. I forgOfl yomr nerves 
were not strong since you had that fever. 

Mrs, Smyth4, Oome, ladies. Tea is waiting. 

Mrs. Gouip. I took tea at Mrs. Bud's last Thursday. Th« 
tea was so weajt it didn't taste of anything, and, would you 
beUeve, sh« had no emshed ^gM! {ExeunL} 



il; 



THa BASat'UL BOY. « 



THE BASHFUL BOY. 



o:ec.a.xi.-^ote!21.s. 



Florence Wiim. 
May Watson. 
Maggie Wilsoij. 
Lottie Bkooks. 



Tim Blush. 

Sam Titus. 
Edwin Banes. 
James Mabtls, 



r 



Scene L Tim and 8am, 

6am, Yon mnst go to this party, Tim. It will be a jolly 
good one. Florence Winn knows how to get up parties. 

Tim. Really, Sam, I'd rather not go. • I dislike parties. 

Sam, Ha! ha ! you don't like parties! You never was to but 
one in your life ; that I know. 

Tim. And I did not know what to do with myself then. I 
couldn't move without running against somebody or upsetting a 
chair or something. 

Sam. That is just where the fun is. It is extremely convenient 
for somebody to jostle you against a pretty girl, I like it. If 
you don't know her very well, you must make a long apology, 
and you get acquainted. If you don't know her at all, an apology 
is necessary anyway, and then you get acquainted- Don't you see f 

I'ljn. I never could do that. 

Sa7n. Oh ! you blush too much, Tim. I declare if you didn't 
blush the whole evening at that party you speak of. Hal ha I 
just think of a blush three hours long, 

Tim. It is excellent fun for you, Sam, but 1 didn't enjoy that 
blush, I can tell you. 

Sam, I know you didn% and I want to help you. You must 
learn to go oftener and get used to society, and then you won** 
be so bashful. You'll promise to go this evening, won't you ? 

Tim. I don't know anybody that will be there. 

8am. Pshaw! I know them all! I'll introduce you. You 
enow Florence Winn. She'll see that you know eTerjbodj and 
kAve a good Uxna 



m THE BASHFUL BOY. 

Tim, But I have no desire to know everybody. 
Bam. But you must. Now let me drill you ft little on hov 
vou must act Suppose I am going to introduce you to a young 
ladv. We step up to her and I say, *^Miss Blank, allow me to 
introduce my friend Mr. Blush,'* Then she will bow her politest, 
and you must do the same. And mind you don't blush. 
TvTL Then what must I do next? ,. ^ . v 

Sam. Well, it she offers her hand, you must shake hands with 
her. If she doesn't, you mustn't 

Tim^ Then I'll stand like a dunce while you talk to her or 
till some other fellow takes her away. 

Sani. No I that won't do. I'll excuse myself, and you will 
entertain her. 
Tim. I couldn't think of anything to say. 
Sam, Begin on the weather, and then talk about the company 
present You'll soon get to light literature and operas. It is n't 
necessary that your conversation have any point to it If she 
has ever read any books she'll tell you ail she can remember 
about some long novel, and all you'll have to do will be to listen. 
Tim. I believe I'll try it 
Sam, Certainly you must ! 

Sam. Then when supper is ready you must take some nice 
^irl to the table. You do this way. Bow your very best to the 
lady and say, ^*Miss Blank, can I have the pleasure of escorting 
you to supper?" She will say, "Yes, thank you," or something 
like that, and take your arm. Then, if you don't like that, ril 
never ask you again to go to a party. When you get to the table, 
you must see that she is helped to everything, and be careful you 
don't spill coffee or lemonade in her lap. That makes a girl 
dreadful mad. 
Tim. I'll go, Sam. .... o.. *: 

Sam. All right, Tim! Don't forget my mstructions. Practice 
your bows before the glass. 

Scene II. Evening party at FlormM Winn's. Company ieated 
engaged in conoersation, 

Maggie. May, are you acquainted with Mr. Blush? 
May. I never met him, Maggie. They say he is so hashfui 
that he can hardly speak to a stranger. ^ vr ^ • 

Florence. He will be here this evening i Is he so very bashtui ? 
Edwin, He is ! I met him at a party once, and I never saw a 
fellow make so many blunders as he did. 
Lottie. For all that Mr. Banks, I think he is very nice. 
Edwin, Well, IVe no objections to your thinking so, Miss 
Brooks. Did you ever meet him, Miss Wilson ? 

Maggie, No, but I've heard Mr. Titus speak of him. (Enter, 
Tim Blush, Sam Titus and James Martin, Florence meets them.) 
Florence, Good evening, gentlemen! (Bows.) 
Sam, {Bowi politdy) Good evening, Miss Winn. (Thes ihak$ 



THE BASHFUL BOY. » 

Jwme%, Good evening, Miss Winn. {Bows, They shake JiaiuU. 
Tim, stands awkioardly and badly frightened.) 

Florence, Good evening, ^Ir. Biush! I'm so glad you have 
come. I was afraid you would n^t {Bows and offers her hand. 
Tim tries to bow, but backs against JameSy and the shock sends 
him directly against Florence). 

Tim, {Recovering himself,) Good evening, Miss Winn. You 
are very happy to see me. {Confused.) No. I meant — I — I 
think it will rain soon. 

Florence. I think probably it may. Let me introduce you to 
the company. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Blush." "Miss 
Watson, Mr. Blush." {May bows, Tim bows a/wkioai^dly and 
seizes her left hand,) 

Tim. Good evening, Miss Watson. This is a very pleasant 
evening. I think it will snow soon. 

May. Snow ! Why, Mr. Biush, you forget this is July. 

Tim. Oh, so it is." (More confused than ever,) I meant I 
think it will thaw. 

Lottie. {Aside.) Did you ever see the like 

Edwin. {Aside.) That's exactly the way he did at the party 
I was telling you about. 

Florence. Mr. Blush, I see you are inclined to jest at the 
-.^jcpense of the weather. That was a very good joke, too. It 
certainly would thaw anything chilly this sort of weather. 
Excuse me, I haven't introduced you yet. Come this way. 

Sam. (Aside to Tim.) Don't say anything more till she*s done 
introducing you. 

Florence. "Mr. Blush, Miss Wilson." (Maggie boivs, Tim 
stands stock still) " Miss Brooks '» {Lottie boios), " Mr. Banks *' 
{Edwin offers his hand). 

Tim. {Taking his hand.) Vm very glad to make the acquaint 
ance of all of you. I've been wanting to see you for a long time. 

Edwin. Thank you! {Aside.) I did not know I was i^ such 
demand as that. 

Florence. Mr. Blush, you will find a seat beside Miss Brooks. 
{Timy in attempting to seat himself steps on Florence's train and 
stands there awkwardly.) 

Tim. Gracious! What shall I do. Let me have my hat i It's 
very late. 1 think I must be going. 

Florence. Oh, you must not go yet We shall have refresh- 
ments after awhile. {To the company.) Please excuse me a 
moment 

Tinu Miss Winn, don-t think of asking to be excused. It was 
all my fault Oh, she wasn't talking to me. {Exit Florence to 
repair he^ tfain Tim drops into a chair beside Lotti^y and mops 
hds face with a handkerchief Lottie engages him in conversation^ 

May. {Aside.) Mr. Titus, your friend is dreadfully bashful ! 

Sam. Hell be all right now. He is over the worst 

Maggis. (Aside to the otherSy wJto ojte apart from Tim cmd 
loMe.) I ahould tajr aoi I donH sea kow b^e can do any worse! 



m THE BASHFUL BOY. 

Jame», Lottie will bring him through ail right if anybcx/j 
can. Miss Wilson, what do you saj to a promenade on the ver- 
anda? 

Maggie. It would be deli ghtfal. 

8am, I think it just the thing this warm evening. {The boys 
give their arms to the girls^ and pass out. Edwin remains at ane 
iide examining a hook.) 

Lottie. This is a delightful party. Don*t you think so, Mr. 
Blush? 

Tim. Oh, yes, Miss Brooks. I think I've enjoyed it very well. 
It's awful hot, though. 

Lottie. Won't you use my fan ? . 

Tim. {Hastily.) Nol nd^! You'll need it yourself. Come to 
think of it, I don't believe it is so hot as it was. 

I^ottie. It was very foolish of me to ask if you were -enjoying 
yourself. Of course every one likes parties. 

Tim. I think I'd like them better if it wasn't for the girls, 

Lottie. {Aside.) What a booby he is! {Aloud.) You don't 
mean that, Mr. Blush. You are jesting. 

Tim. Yes, I guess I was. T meant that I like the girls better 
than the parties, I think that is what I meant. 

Lottie. You are very gallant, Mr. Blush. 

Tim. WeM, I didn't know it. (Enter Florence and the others.) 

Florence. Refreshments are ready! Mr. Martin, will you lead 
the way? {James offers Man gie his arm^ and exits. Edwin and 
Florence follaw. Tiien 8am- and May. Tim looks frightened. He 
rises awkwardly.) 

Tim, Miss Brooks, will you excuse me from taking you to 
supper ? 

Lottie. {Surprised, Coolly.) Certainly, Mr, Blush ! I do not 
wish any refreshments! 

Tim. {Aside.) There! I knew there wouldn't anybody go to 
supper with me, {He-enter Sam and May). . 

Sam^ {Advances to Tim.) Bring Lottie to supper, Tim J 

Tim,, Bhe won't go ! 

Bam Did you ask her! 

Tim. Yes. 

Sam. What did you say! 

JHm. I don't know! But I know what she said! 

Sam. Pshaw ! There's some mistake. Go to her and tell her 
vou want to go to supper with her.* {IHm hesitates) Go! It will 
be all right. 

Tim. (Goes to Lottie.) Miss Brooks, I want to go to supper 
with you. 

Ljottie. You just asked me to excuse you I 

Tim. Hang it! I don't know what I said, but I wanted to go 
with you. Now, will you go ? 

Lottie. Certainly! With pleasure (Tim off&r$ hi$ a^rm. 
Bxewnt) 



THB MAY QUESK. 



THE MAY QUEEN. 



G^3ij^TtJ^C^^^mJB^ 



Lizzis. I Dick. 

Mary. j Earbt. 

Ajtnib. I Samxtbi^ 

{Other boffs cmd girls in ths second scene^ 

Annie, What will we do at the May party? 

Mary. We'll play games till we're tired, then we'll select 
»ome girl for May Queen, and one of the boys must crowa 
her with flowers and make a speech. 

Dick, Why can't one of the girls crown the queen and make 
the speech ? 

Lizzie. Oh, that wouldn't look well. A boy must do that 
His speech must be very gallant It would look silly for a 
girl to say nice things to another girl, 

Dick. Yon will have to make the speech, Harry. You are our 
orator. 

Harry, I don*t want to make any speech. 

Annie, You must ! We agreea, didn't we girls, that Har^ 
should crown the May Queen ? 

All the girU. Yes I 

Harry, Then who is to select the May Queen? I suppose 
you girls will want to do that too. 

Samuel. The boys won't agree to let the girls select the May 
Queen. 

Dick, No, sir, they won't ! We 've made up our minds already, 
Harry. We knew you would agree to our selection. 

Harry. I don't care much who it is. 

Mary, Who is it, Dick f Do tell us 1 

Dick, I guess we'd better not tell you yet 

Mary, flow provoking you are, we told you who was 
selected to make the speech. 

Dick, You couldn't help it How could he make the egmdh 
If youdidai»t? 



n THE MAY QUEEN. 

Annie. And how can the Queen be crowned if 700 doD*t tteH 

us who she is. Samuei» who l« U f 

Samuel, I shan't telL 

Dick, Well, if you must know, it*js Lizzie. 

Mary. Won't that be nice, Lizzie I You will be dressed in 
white, and i"«t covered with flowers. 

Anni6. Won*t It be ;splendid I 

Harry, Won't it be splendid for a fellow to worry over a 
speech for this afternoon, and rack his brains till he can't tell 
whether he is himself or somebody else ? 

Samuel. Consult the " Young Orator's Guide." 

Harry. Hang the young orator I {All laugh) 

Samuel. We wouldn't be so hard on jrou as that 

Harry. I mean hang his guide. Lizzie, I'll begin like this*. 
**Most illustrious and exalted queen '*— 

Lizzie. Don't be silly. 

Harry. "It is with feelings oi the deepest awe •*— 

Lizzie. Hush ! 

Harry. " I may say more than awe. In fact, I'm scared.** 

Lizzie, If you go on like that, I won't be queen at alL 

Harry. I'll ffo on that w^ sure. I'll go at it like a young 
Cicero. I'll make it nice. {Mxeunt all.) 

ScEKB II* A pienic seene. Boys and girls in Holiday attire, 

J)ick> Say, Annie, we've played and romped till I'm as hungry 
as a wolf Let's crown the Queen and have our dinner. 

Samuel. That's what I say. 

Annie. I think it's time. We*re all hungry. Samuel, bring 
that chair that we decorated for a throne. Dick, tell Harry 
we're ready. We will get the singers all ready. (Samuel brings 
in a large chair decorated handsomely with branches and flowers. 
Places chair in the center. Enter Hick and Harry.) 

Hick. Here's your orator brimful of speech. 

Harry. And anxious to distinguish himself. 80 hurry up. 
I've not enjoyed myself at all to-day, I couldn't do anything but 
think over that speech for fear I'd forget it I can't stand It any 
longer. 

Annie. We're all ready. (Exeunt Mary and Anniey who escort 
in Lizzie dressed in white and her dress trimmed with flowers. 
Other boys and girls follow. They escort her to the chair. She 
is assisted into the chair and the two girls fall back beside^ and slighU 
ly behind her* Harry advances with crown of flowers and speaks.) 

Ha/rry, Fair monarch, let admiring subjects crown thee Queen 
of May, as May crowns the earth with flowers. May your reign 
be happy, and youi kingdom flourish. Flowers will crown thee, 
And flowers will ever remind thy joyous subjects to pledge tbeli 
TOWS of loyalty anew. Beautiful flowers are the only gems Hi to 
«hine In the erown of the lovely Queen of May« I crown thee 



THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING. 38 

with the love of thy subjects, (Places ihs erown an h$r head.) 
Long live the Queen of May! 

All, (Shout.) Long live the Queen of May! (AU pass before 
her in procession, offering gifts of flowers. Close with a May 
song.) 

Note. — May songs may be found in most good music books. 
Woodland Echoes, Pacific Glee Book, Silver Carols, Song Echo, 
Whip-poor- Will, contain such songs. 



THE AMIYEESAET MEEimS. 



Eon. I Salmb. 

JjKXNiBU I Emma. 

JennU. Aggie, have you learned jovlt piece so you wre sure 
you can irpeak it ? 

Aggie, I think I can. I*m dreadfully nervous though. You 
don't know how afraid I am that I'll forget it 

Bailie, Oh, yes, / know. I shanH forget soon how frightened 
I was last year when I made the presentation speech. 

Gelia. i couldn't do it for the world. It frightens me nearly 
to death to speak a piece Friday afternoons. 

Emma, I don't see why this is any worse than Friday after- 
noon. 

Sallie, Try it once, and you'll see. Just think of getting up 
before a whole house full of people to make a presentation 
speech. It makesyour head swim and your mouth gets as dry 
as a stale crust You can't sit still before you get up, and when 
you are up you can't stand still. Just try it and see. 

Aggie. ^Vhat must I do if I forget Sailie* 

Sallie, Stand still and pretend you're thinking, but listen care- 
fully or you can't hear the prompter. Don't turn your head o? 
everybody will know somebody is prompting you. Celia, you 
must speak clearly so Aggie can hear you, but no% loud or the 
audience will hear. 

Emm^, I ponder if Rose has her speech ready, thanking us 
for our unexpected present t 

JmmiU. t m^po^ so. She knowi thfti the society makes ^ 



$4 THE AKNIVEKSARY MEETINQc 

President a present each anniversary, and that a speech li ex 
pected. 

Sallie. Last year I had mine written and learned a month 
beforehand. 

Celia. Do you wish me to prompt you in your valedictory 
address, Jennie ? 

Jennie, No, I won't be prompted* If I can't speak without 
it, I'll sit down and say nothing, or I'll say anything that comes 
first 

Aggie, Humph, if you once forget it, you can't think of a 
thing. 

Cel'^'a, I think that's a real nice album we got for Rose* 

Emma, Let's go and look at it again. {Exeunt all. Enter 
Rose.) 

Rose. I wish this was over. There will be such a crowd 
present at our last meeting, and the idea of my having a speech 
all ready when people think it is impromptu! I've called the 
present a vase. TliaVs what it was last year. I wish I knew 
what it is this year. I hope I shall not forget my piece, for 
Emma speaks so loud everybody will hear her prompt me. I 
don't care so much for the annual address of the retiring Presi- 
dent, for everybody expects that to be prepared for the oc- 
casion. {Re-enter all the girls, A few others may appear as part 
of the society if th^re is room^ and the teacher wishes it.) 

Rose, Girls, is n*t it time to begin f 

Jennie, Yes, it's eight o'clock. Call us to order. 

Rose, {Raps 0n the table,) The society will please come to 
order. {All seated,) We begin our programme for the evening 

with music entitled {Here vocal or iustrumental mtcsic 

should be introduced. The music may be by girls alone, as this is 
supposed to be a girls* society^ or if desired^ boys may take part in 
the singing^ and if the teacher desires it^ a declamation by a boy or 
a recitation by a girly or both , may be introduced into the pro- 
gramme^ according to the length of time to be occupied. If there 
a/re declamations and readings, the President announces them in 
proper order, and tJiey may be followed by music. Then comes the 
President's ^^ Annical Address,^* 

Rose. {Standing,) Members of the Philomathean society, It 
becomes my duty, according to custom, to deliver to you a few 
remarks before retiring from the honored position of President 
of the society. I haven't much to say because I have left all 
that to the valedictorian, who can say it much better than L I 
take pleasure in saying— {Stops.) I take pleasure in saying— 
{Stops.) 

Celia, {Asid-e.) Oh, dear, she has forgotten! 

Rose* I take pleasure in saying — 

Emma. {Aside prompts loudly^ '* This year has been **— 

Rose. ITbiia year has been a pleasant one for the society. Wo 
hATe all profited greatly by oujp exercises during the year, I hs^ 



THE AKNIVERSARY MEETING, 8> 

next year may be still more pleasant and profitable. I am glad 
to say that tl\e progress of the society speaks for itself, and 

requires me to say but little. {Seats herself .) 

Aggii, (Rises and advanc-es with album in hand) Miss Presi- 
dent, in behalf of the society, let me thank you for the faithful 
manner in which you have performed all the duties of your 
ofiice. We wish tc/ thank you, not only in words, but to present 
you a slight testimonial of our regards. Take this album. May it 
always recall nothing but pleasant thoughts. May it serve as a 
link to bind the future to the past As you turn its pages 
in future years, may each face be to you the face of a friend, 
though it may be an absent friend or one that has gone before 
you to an eternal home. May the memories awakened by this 
book be sw^eetened by advancing years, for the Philomathean 
society will never die. Long after it has ceased to meet in our 
school hall it will meet in the beautiful halls of Memory, where 
Presidents will sit enthroned in their olficial chairs, blushing 
maidens will timidly read their first essays, declamations will be 
raced through as of old, and the prompter will startle the phan- 
tom assemblage by a sudden line from her secluded corner. May 
your recollections of the Philomathean ever be brighter than the 
prompter's dim comer. 

Rou. Members^ of the Philomathean society, I thank you for 
this beautiful testimonial of your esteem. I scarcely know how 
to express my thanks for this beautiful vasa 

Se^xfnU. (ExcUim half aloud.) Oh, my t It*s not a vase. 

Hose. Every time I cast my eyes upon it, I shall think of you, 
and — and— everytime I— and everytime I cast my eyes upon it — 

Emma, {Rather loudly) The memories will certainly be 
among the sweetest of mv life. 

Xiose. And everytime 1 cast my eyes upon it, it will awaken 
memories the sweet'est of my life. This vase — {Confused) Oh, 
I meant album I — wall be a treasure which I shall ever cherish. 
Excuse me, for this is so unexpected. I thank you again. {Seated. 
A pause) 

Jennie. {Ands to Celia) She was awfully scared 

Rose. We will now hear the valedictory by Miss Jennie Jones. 

Jennie. Fellow members of the Philomathean, you doubtless 
expect in this case that your valedictorian possesses all the won- 
derful qualities of valedictorians in general. That is, you expect 
a remarkable production w^hich shall reflect all the varied talents 
of this society. You expect that I shall dish up to you the 
wit that we have heretofore had from our brilliant member, the 
humor we have had from our funny member, the poetry that 
we have had from our poet, the logic that we have from our 
philosopher and— pardon me-— the duUne^ we all contribute to 
the common stock. {Stops^ 

Bollix {Half Aloud) I bid her she'd forget it I 

JmmU. Bui jou inll be disappointed. Omitting Xti% isdi 



m THB ANNIYERSAEY MEETING, 

vidnai parts I have named, I shall represent only the dullnew 
of the common stock. (Stops.) 
Emma. {Rather loudly.) Look at your paper, 
Jennie. It is very difficult for a valedictorian to fulfill {Stops,) 
— for a valedictorian— to fulfill — 
Celia, (Half aloud.) She's forgotten every word 1 
Jennie. Yes, I have, forgotten it, but I said I wouldnH be 
prompted, and I won't. (General laugh.) I haven't much to say 
anyway, I wanted to say that it is hard for a valedictorian to make 
a suitable speech, and I think you will ail believe me now. 
(Laughter.) So I'll just go to the last part of my speech and 
say good bye. I'm soiTy the year is ended, and I hope you're all 
sorry too. If you're not you ought to be. It is n't worth while to 
ask you to remember each other. You'll all do that without 
asking, I trust I've forgotten all my nice poetical quotations, 
but I believe that one of them said : * 'If thinking be a task, 
why theai forget*^ (The exercises may dose with muuc tf desirsd^) 



THE RUNAWAYS. 



CHAEACTBE8. 

Sam Joioai. 
George Iyes. I Mrs. Swipp. 

Mr. Ives. j Susah Swift. 



scEinsi, 

George. Sam, I tell you what it is, hoeing potatoes is a swindle. 

8am. You're right, it is. My back is nearly broken. 

George, My arms are so tired I couldn't hold up the hoe ft 
iniDUte longer without resting. 

Sam. Ha! ha! {Laughs heartily) Well, George, that's the 
best joke of the season! (LaugTis again.) Your arms are so 
tired you couldn't hold the hoe any longer. {Foking George slyly 
in fJve ribs.) George, the fact is my chin got so tired pushing 
against the top of my hoe handle that I had to give it a rest, too. 
Tirai I I should say we were. ' Why, we have been here three 
^ours at least, and we've hoed along our rows aa much as 
three rods. 

George, It isn't our fault that we do not get along faster. 
Circumstances are against us. We are hoeing from the shade 
tree instead of toward it 

Sam, That's so i Shade trees ought to be planted all along 
the rows. 

George, Yes, that is my idea 1 A shade tree every rod and a 
hill of potatoes every ten rods. 

Sam, I hate potatoes. I wish father wouldn't plant any more. 
After awhile the bugs will come along and eat them all up. What's 
the use of hoeing them ? 

George. Yes, the bugs will be here knee deep in a few day« 
and then we shall have to throw them out of the lot with & scoop 
shovel. 

Sam. Yes, that's the way to do it They will break their 
necks as they fall on the other side of the fence. 8i^, <3lec»r|^ 

37 



THE RUITJLWATB. 



1 



let's go oyer to the woods and throw at tlie birds awhile. It wiB 
rest your arina. 

George. All right! Mrs. Swift hag some mighty nice straw- 
berries, too. Wouldn't some of them rest your jaws and chin a 
little? 

8am, (8ma4!^ hU lips,) Ah! Don't mention it You lacer- 
ate my feelings. 

George, Really she wouldn't miss a few berries when she has 
io many. There wouldn't be much harm in it. 

Sam, Mother says that taking fruit that way is stealing, and 
is wrong. But then I've heard father tell how he used to hook 
apples and watermelons, 

George, Pshaw! Everybody does it What's a little fruit? 
Eating a few strawberries isn't stealing. 

8am. All right George. I'm in for it nobody need ever 
know it 

George. Sam/ why can't we get the berries and then go off a 
few days for a good time. 

8am. I've thought of that, only I would go for good. I am 
tired living in the country, driving up the cows, hoeing potatoes 
and killing potato bugs. People in town do not have to do 
such things. I'd like to keep a store and have nothing to do but 
wait on people and read the jpapers and go to &e theater 
evenings. 

George, I'd like to be boss in a big factory and have nothing 
to do but tell other people what to do. I bet I would make 'em 
walk. 

8am, The boss thing is to be a railroad conductor, but cousin 
Dick, who lives in the city, says that everybody can't be a rail- 
road conductor. 

George. The best thing is to run a circus. But then I sup- 
pose a fellow needs capital to start a show. 

Sam. How much money have you, George ? 

George. Two dollars and a quarter. 

Sam. I've only a dollar ana a half, and father's gone away 
for a month. There's no use to ask mother for money, fche says 
I don't need it. 

George, Well, we must begin a little lower and work up till we 
get more capital 

Sam. Humph* We need not wait long. Father gays he 
itarted with half a dollar. 

George. Sam, we have no time to lose. Father will be home 
at noon. You go home and get your money, and I'll gO" and get 
mine. You bring a tin cup and two spoons, and I'll get some 
cake and sugar. We will go over and pick a lot of Mrs. Swift's 
«trawberries. I know how to get into her milk house. She has 
tip-top cool milk and cream. 

Sam. That ia capital We shall ha?e gtrawberries and cream 



THE RUNAWAYS. 89 

with calre. That will not be a bad dinner. Bee, we nave bettered 

our condition already. 
Oeargt. Hurry up, Sam. (Exeunt in diff&reTU directiom.) 

ScKiTB II. Sam and George seated on t?ie ground lunching on 
ttrawberriUy oream and caks, ErU&r Mr$. Swift unobserved by 
then. 

George. Isnt this fine? 

Sam, As cmr teacher always says, this is ns plus utt'ra, 

Mrs, 8, {Aside.) I've got the rascals this time. 

Ge<yrge^ Bam, what does ne plus ultra mean? You're studied 
all that stuff in the back of the spelling book. 

Sam, It means about the same as hunkidory, 

Mrs. 8. (Aside.) Lawsakesl Did you ever! 

Sam, What will Mrs. Swift say when she misses her berries! 

Mrs. 8, (IrMgnantlv aside,) The little villains! 

George, Oh, the ola woman will make twice the fuss about 
the cream. She would go without coflee for a week rather than 
have the cat knock a cover off A milk pan and eat five cents 
worth of cream. 

(Mrs, S. shakeM her fist at tTiem.) 

Sam. George, you're coming it pretty strong when you say 
she would do without coffee for a week. She would die. 

Mrs. S. (Seizes Sam by the collar and shakes him,) Oh, you 
little beast! I'll teach you how to steal my strawberries and 
drink my nice cream. (Shakes him) 

Sam. Let go there! What are you doing? (Tries to break 
loose) 

Mrs. 8, You'll find out what I^m doing. Just to think of 
your taking that best cream, too. I wouldn't *a believed it if I 
hadn't — (Shakes him again) George stands laughing slvLy. 

Sam. How d'ye know it was your cream? Let go, I say, I'm 
choking. 

Mrs. S, Oh, I saw you, you little villains !— and butter twenty- 
five cents. {Shakes Sam again) 

Sam, See here, old lady, that is getting stale. George, why 
don't you help a feller? Trip her up. 

Mrs. S, Catch him tripping me up ! 

Ge<yrge, Well, I will, old lady. If you don't let that fellow go 
I'll hurt somebody pretty soon. (Advances and threatens) Drop 
him, won't you? 

Mrs. S. No, I won't, young man. Keep your distance. I'll 
call the dog. (Calls loudly) Susan ! Susan. (Shrieks) Susan ! 
Wait till that girl comes with the dog and I'll fii you. I'll send 
for the constable and have you taken to jail. 

Sam, (Struggling to escape) George, can't you help a 
feller? 

Q^orgt. Let's ran away before they come. 



40 THE RUNAWAYa 

Sam, Talk about ninning away ! / can't g^et away. Trip he? 
op, why doii*t you, {George runs up, bxU Mrs. 8, grabs at him^ wnd 
he keeps a/way. Erd&r Su^an.) 

Susan. Why, what's the matter, mother! 

Mrs^ 8. Matter 1 Look there! Stra'b'ries and cream and 
cake! Land sakes if they haven't cake I ^Where did you stea] 
that f 

George, (Indignantly,) We didn't steal it ! I got it at home. 

Mrs. 8. Home! Who are you, an j^w ay?. 

Susan. Mother, I know them. It's Sam Jones and George 
Ives. 

Mrs. 8. Well, I don't care who they are. They shall go to 
jail. It's no joke they'll find out to break into a milk house when 
butter is twenty-five cents a pound. 

Susan, And. stra'b'ries ten cents a quart. 

Mrs. 8. Yes, and stra'b'ries ten cents ! Susan, run for the con- 
stable. Where's the dog ? 

Susan. Bill is holding him down by the orchard fence. He 
will let him go if we holier. 

George. Don't holler and we'll pay for the cream and berries. 

Sam. Yes, let us go and we'll pay. We have money. 

Susan. Mother, they'll fool you and run. 

Mrs. 8. You shall pay first, and then I'll let you go. You've 
spiled five dollars worth of stuff, I know. 

Sam. That's too much; don't be too hard onus. We'll give 
you two dollars and a half. George, get out your money. 

George. {Produces money,) Get your money, Sam. Will you 
take all we have and let us off? 

Mrs. 8.. It's worth five dollars if it's worth a cent. This is 
not the first time my milk house door has been busted open and 
cream took. 

George. It is the first time we have broken it open. Sam, 
where is your money? 

Sam. Mother put it where I couldn't find it. 

George, Then what is the use of your talking about paying ? 

Sam. George, you pay and I'll — I'll — I'll give you my note. 

SusaTh. Mother, they're just fooling. They don't mean to 
pay. 

Mrs. 8. No, I think not ! Call for the dog and run for Mr. 
Hart, the constable. {Susan runs out and calls at the top of her 
voice, " Loose the dog, BiW) 

George. Ooh! mercy! He will eat us up, Sam. {Runs out 
and runs into the arms of Mr. Ives, who is coming in^ Mr. Ives 
leads him hack by the arm) 

Mr. I. What is the meaning of all this, George? 

George. We were only having a little fun. 

Mrs. 8, A little fun, indeed ! / can tell you wk&t Gi€y*w 
been doin' if you want to know. 



THE RUNAWAYS. 41 

Mr, I. I do want to know. Will yon Inform me, my good 

woman? 

Mrs, 8> (Curtly.) Don*t call me your good woman- I'm 
Mrs. Swift. TJiat is my name. 

Mr. I. Then, Mrs. /Swift, will you please inform me what my 
son and this other boy, who was working with him, have been 
doing? 

Mrs. 8. Stealing! 

Mr. I. I am surprised I 

Mrs. 8. I suppose yon are. Old folks are ihe last ones to be- 
lieve the meanness of their young *una 

George. It isn't stealing to pull a few berries and get some 
cream to eat with them. 

Mr. I. George, has it come to this that yon must turn petty 
pilferer ? I feared something was wrong and started in search of 
you as soon as I missed you. Your false notions of a life of ease 
will ruin you and disgrace me, I fear. Let this be a warning, 
boys. You are detected in your first crime. It is well if that 
detection prevents another crime. Why will you take fruit when 
you have plenty at home ? 

George. Oh, father, forgive me this time and I'll never do so 
again. 

Mrs. 8. Well, that boy ainH so bad, after all 

Mr. I. iOfers money.) Here, Mrs. Swift, this will pay yon for 
your loss. DonH mention this, if you please. CJome, boys, we 
must go, 

Sdm. {Going aside.) Wish I could be forgiTea that way. Dad 
will lick me, I guesa 



^ THE QUACK 



THE QUACK 



CHARACTEB8. 

Dn. Bhakp, a celebrated physician, 

Mk. Spindle, very delicate. 

Mr. Heatt, very fat and gouty. 

Mrs. Quick^ very nervous. 

Mrs. DObbs, with a " goneness." 

Miss Fairy, with beauty and a tendency to ftTOirdopdbl, 

Dick Bicker, with an affection of the heart 



8harp» {Sitting at a tabU coTUaining l>ottle8 arid medidinen.) 
This town is decidedly the best place I ever struck. There is 
something in belonging to a highly respectaUe profession. Med- 
icine is the thing to make money out of. Here I am getting 
rich so fast I don't know what to do with all my money. My 
clients are numerous and rich, and, thank heaven, not too in^ 
telligent. Brains are a humbug. Only a few people ought to 
have them. If everybody had them—which a wise Providence 
will never allow— there would be no getting along at all. As it 
is, chaps like myself manage to get along very comfortably. 
(Looks at his watch.) Business must be attended to. Office 
hours 10 to 12 A.M. It is near iy. ten now, and . there will be a 
whole battalion at the door on time. Spindle, the dunce, and 
Dobbs, the old dolt, and Mrs. Quick and Miss Fairy, will ail be 
here with their aches and pains and fears. Ha! ha! If it wasn't 
for the imagination, doctors would star^ve. I tried teaching 
school, but that was a failure, because I had to cultivate the in- 
tellect. Raw material insufficient I tried literature — results, 
failure. Cause, had to cultivate my own intellect, raw material 
failed again. Tried business and failed because I had to appeal 
to the pocket-book, the most impregnable part of the human 
anatomy. Tried medicine, used my own stock of brains in 
fuddling the brains of my patients. Quickened their imagin- 
ations with lively fears. Glorious results I A fine crop of dis- 
eases and a splendid crop of greenbacks. Let me see ! Are my 
medicines for the day all ready. {Takea up a bottle.) Here Is the 
Tincture of Iron and Elixir Quintessant, $1.00 per bottle. That is 
1^ Spindle. Gli^ious medicine, thatl Ckuupositioii protectee 



THB QUACK 43 

try lettcri patent from mv estimable guardian and benefactor, 
iJncle Sam. I call that tincture of iron— because it won't hurt a 
man wiib an iron constitaiion. It is made of forty-cent 
molaases, aqv/x pura, ox pump water, a little rhubarb to make it 
taste bad, and a little peppermint to make it taste good. Add a 
little glycerine to make it slip down, and you have it. When I 

five it to Heavy I call it *^ St George's Gout Slayer," and when 
give it to Mrs. Quick it becomes *vThe Phosphatic Nervine and 
Champion Recuperator." {Bell rings.) Ah! here they come. 
{Ooe$ to door, Erder Spindle.) 

Sharp. Good mommg, Mr. Spindle. How are you this 
morning? 

Spindle. (Sinking into a chair.) Miserable! miserable! Dr. 
Sharp, you must save me. 

STuirp. I'll do it. Let,me feel your pulse. A trifle irregular 
yet, I see. Let me see your tongue. Coated somewhat (Aside.) 
He has been stuffing himself with fried liver again- (Aloud,) 
What are your general symptoms! 

Spindle. Miserable! miserable! 

Sharp. Is your appetite good ? 

Spindle. Miserable! miserable! At breakfast I can eat 
nothing. 

SJoiirp, Nothing! 

Spindle. Next to nothing! I usually call for fried liver. 
That and a few hot rolls and coffee is all I can manage to eat 
I am going. 

Sharp: Oh! don't go yet I will prescribe for you, Mr. 
spindle. 

Spindle. (In a sepulchral mice.) Alas! you misunderstand 
me, Dr. Sharp. I am going to the other world. 

Sluwp. Oh, yes! I beg your pardon! You mean to -— to 
heav- 

Spindle, To heaven, I hope. 

Sharp. Come, come, my boy. Dont talk so. I'll pull yon 
through all right Did you take all that " Tincture of Femim 
and Elixir Quintessant?" 

Spindle. Yes, 

Sharp. And all the pills t 

Spindle. Yes. 

Sharp. Do you feel sensitive to heat and cold f 

Spindle. Yes. When it is very warm I feel oppressed with 
heat, and when it is chilly I feel chilly. I can't account for it, 
Doctor. 

Sharp. Do you take any exercise ? 

Spindle. Doctor, I can't It would kill me, I know, 

Shmy. Your case is peculiar. Under unskillful hands it 
would prove dangerous, but I'll pull you through all right Here 
W wjother bottle of the Elixir, and here is a box of pili^ (Asids^) 



h 



44 THB QUAGi:. 

Made yesterday from best baker's bre&d, (Aloud.) Oome agaiai 

when tbese are done. {Bell rings.) 

Spindle. Good mornings Doctor. 

8harp, Good day, Mr. Spindle, 

{Exit Spindle, Enter Heavy.) Ah! glad to see you, Mr 
Heavy. How are you ? 

Eea/cy. {Dropping with a thud into a chair.) Dull, Doctor. 
Pm deucedly dull this morning. 

Sharp* What are your symptoms to-day! 

Heavy, I still have headache. 

Sharp, Indeed! At what time of day? 

Heavy. Oh, at any time of day. It com^ by spells sort of ofl / 
and on. I feel dull, too. ,' 

Sharp, When do you feel dullest t ) 

Heavy, Just after eating. ^^ 

Sfuirp. Appetite good ? ^ 

Heavy. Well, yes, I can't complain of it! Don^t eat much, 
either. I always take a little of everything, though. At dinner 
I taste the soup and hsh. Then I always was fond of poultry 
and usually take a piece of roast turkey or chicken, with dress- 
ing. Of course a meal is n't a meal without something sub- 
stantial, so I generally try a slice of roast beef or pork. I take 
a little dessert, pie, padding, and fruit. I never considered those 
things as amounting to anything. 

Sharp, Oh, trifles, of course. {Aside) Enough to destroy the 
stomach of an ostrich. {Aloud) Do you take wine also ? 

Heavy. A trifle, Doctor. Never more than three glasses. 

Sharp, Mr, Heavy, I believe I have hinted to you that a gouty 
man would be as well off without wine, 1 donH wish to deprive 
you of the comforts of life, but possibly oue course of meat and 
one of dessert might be suflacient for a sick man. Still, you must 
decide for yourself. 

Heavy, Dr. Sharp, I can*t possibly get along without the wine 
to help digest my food. It does me so much good, and as lor the 
meat, what can a man eat if he don't eat meat. I shall not starve 
myself if I die for it. But what do you think of my case ? 

Sharp, You are progressing, sir. {Aside) Toward the grave. 
{Aloud) Take another bottle of the "Champion Gout Slayer and 
Incredible Discovery." That will fix you. Take as before. 
Don't fail to come again as soon as that is done. {Bell rings) 

Heavy, I will faithfully obey your instructions. Here is 
twenty dollars on account. 

Sharp, Thank you, Mr, Heavy. {Exit H) That ring is Mrs. 
Quick's. I will give her some of the '' Phosphatic Nervine and 
Great Recuperator*' and a little electricity, and get nd of her aa 
s(X)n as possible. She has a catalogue of aches, pains, pangs and 
twinges as long as the moral law. Hanged if my battery isn't 
3til of order. Well, I'll just turn the crani and she may hold th« 



/J 



THE QUACK. 45 

poles, and her ima^nation will do the rest (Enter Mrs. Quick.) 

Sharp. Good morning, Mrs. Quick. How are you to-day ? 

Mrs. Q- Poorly! Poorly I I have a dreadful numbness in 
the little -toe of my right foot, and such a queer sensation in my 
right ear, and the left side of my stomach feels -— — 

87iarp. {Hastily interrupting her.) Say no more, madam. 
Fhe skilled eye of science recognizes at a glance the insidious 
nature of your mysterious malady. Do not be alarmed, all sh aJ] 
be well. 

Mrs, Q. Oh, I am so nervous. 

Sharp. Be calm. Electricity is what you want. That mys- 
terious and divine life-giving agent that leaps across the universe 
at a bound, mocking the snail pace of light and turning swift- 
winged thought giddy, is certainly able to overtake the lurking 
disease. Is it not ? Can't it overtake dyspepsia ? I guess so. 
Can't it knock the spots off a diseased liver ? I think it can. 
Take hold of the handles, madam. {The battery may he easily 
improvised. A writing case or some other box with a lid may 
be placed on the table with the lid raised toward the audience. 
Behind, this the Doctor turns a " make-believe'^ crank. Two wires 
with handles or knobs take the electricity to the patient.) 

Sha/rp. {Turning the crank.) Do you feel the effects yet! 

Mrs. Q. Oh, Y'J ! It does me ever so much good. 

Sharp. {Aside.) Deuced queer as the thing is not working at 
all. {Aloud.) Can you stand a little more ? 

Mrs. Q. I think so, Dr. Sharp. Just a leetle more. {Doctor 
turns faster.) Oh, that is so invigorating. If I could have that 
oftener I think I might live to comfort Mr. Quick. {Sighs.) But 
it is dreadful expensive at two dollars per time. {Dr. turns still 
faster,) Stop, Doctor, I think that is all I can stand. 

Sharps It will not hurt you in the least Shall I give you a 
slight shock? 

Mrs. Q. {Screams and jumps up,) Oh, don*tj I could neyes 
stand it, I know. {Bell rings) 

Sharp. Another patient;' I am extremely busy. Here is an- 
other bottle of my great Elixir, also a box of pills, {Aside) bread, 
{Aloud) and here is one dozen corrective powders. {Aside) sugar 
and chalk. As her case is complicated I sort o* mix the med- 
icines, some of them will hit 

Mrs. Q. Is this all ? 

Sh^arp. That is all. Good day, madam. (Exit Mrs. Q- E?^ 
ter Miss Fairy.) 

Miss F. {Speaks in a simpering^ languish/ng manner,) Dr. 
Sharp, you aon't know how I have wanted to see you since yes- 
terday. I know that your anti-fat preparation will not do me 
any good. 

tiharp. Bless me, did you expect to get thin la *mj% dsj^ 



40 THE QUACK 

Miss F, Well, Doctor, I tliink the remedy ought to have some 
effect in that time. Don-t they usually, Doctor? 

Sharp. I sometimes give remedies that produce marked 
effects in less time than that, but this is not one of them. Give 
it time. 

MusF, I do so dread becoming fleshy. I think my figure 
is not bad. What do you say. Dr. Sharp ? {She steps past him 
$oqu4tti8hli/>) 
^Sharp. I think it is splendid, charming! divine! 

Miss F. There, now, stopl That's just like a man's flattery. 
But what do you advise? . 

Sharp. Oh, keep right on with the powdered chalk — I don't 
mean chalk. What was I saying? I was about to say that 
Bchool girls often eat chalk, and thus cause great expense to the 
public. Just keep on with the *' Crystalline Antidote.'* Th.at 
and a few pickles will keep you all right. Have no fears of get- 
ting fat. {Aside.) If she lives to be fifty she v/ill weigh three 
hundred. {Bell rings. Enter Mrs. JDobbs. Exit Miss Fairy.) 

Mrs. D. Doctor, I feel awful. I'm desp'ritf poorly. That 
medicine didn't do me a mite o* good. 

Sharp, Are you fevered ? 

Mrs.JD. No! 

Sharp, Are you chilly f 

Mrs.]}. No! 

Sharp, Have you a headache I 

MrsD, No! 

Sharp. Short of breath! 

Mrs.B, No! 

SJuirp, Appetite good1 

Mrs. D, Fair to middlin' like. But 1 donn know whal 
ails me. 

Sharp. {Aside.) I don't, either. 

Airs. D. I have a sort of feelin' of goneness. 

Sharp. " Goneness 1 " Now I have it. {Aside.) 1*11 give her 
a little of everything in the shop. {Mixes a preparation from 
geverai bottles.) Take this every hour till you feel better or worse. 
(Exit Mrs. D,) Thank heaven she is gone» Now I wonder what 
will ail the next patient ? {Enter Dick Bunker,) 

Dick, Is this Dr. Sharp 1 

Sha.rp. {Pompously.) I am Dr. Sharp. 

Dick. Then I want your advice. I am a used-up man. 

Sharp, You don't look like it 

Dick, Fact, though ! I am not what I seem. 

Shci/rp. What are you, then? You don't seem very sick- 
What ails you ! 

Dick, Well, you see I was in the army and got shot clean 
through the chest. I didn't mind it much. But the bullet went 
ekan through as I said, and I didn't |^et it Now if it had stuck 



THE QUACK 47 

I shonld hare kept it for a trophy to show people and brag about 
But 1 lost it, and the thing has worried me ever since. I dream 
of bullets, I can*t sleep, and I am losing fiesh daily. 

Sharp. Dear, sir, you want electricity. Be seated here. Take 
these handles, now. {Turns the crank. Dick begip^s to smile. 
Sharp turns harder. Didc laughs. 3, turns ' faster and faster. 
Dick roars with laughter.) 

Sharp. What remarkable effects electricity has on you, 

Dick, Wonderful I I think they would be marvelous if the 
machine worked. You can't fool me with that old box I'm 
Dick Bunker, your old college chum. 

Shirp. {Looks intently at him,) Why, bless me, if you ain't 

Dick. How are you, old boy? 

Sharp. First rate! Making money! Electricity pays. 

Dick You are right I don't mind telliug you a secret. I 
am practicing medicine in the next county myself. I krow 
how it is. Sharp, I nearly killed myself trying to keep my fa'^.e 
3traight wlien you began to turn that old crank. 

Sh^rp. Well, we will say no more about that It is twelve 
©•clock and business is over till four. . Let's go to dinner. 

DuUc. All right, my boy, Til join in tkat sentiment (ExBy-^JJ 



48 THB ©EBATIHQ SOOIiSTY, 



THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 



CHAKACTERS 

Affi/rmative, Negative. 



Tom Daily, 
Ike Bakton, 
Dick Bulard, 



Jim Siler, 
Fred Baker, 
Jack IsviNa. 



Sam Slow, Chairman^ Bob FBTHEBS,iS'^*f, 



StTRTECT.— " Eesolved. That the horsd is a greater benefladtor t& 
ttiankind than the whale is." 

Sam, {Rapping on the tabls.) The Lyceum will come to order 
at once. (Boi/s eontintie talking ^ Sa/m rap$ louder.) I saj, this 
society is coming to order. 

Jim. Let it come ! 

6am. Mr. Secretary, take your place immediately, and record 
one fine for Jim Siler, ten cents for contempt of court (8ecr0' 
ta/ry wHte$ in his book) 

Jim. That isn't fair. I shan't pay It 

8amri. Order, or I ^411 make it a quarter for contempt in the 
first degree. That is the constitution, I guess you can't dodge the 
constitution, can you ? 

Jim, I guess I can. 

Seoeral. No, you can*t. 

Sam, If there is any more disorder, I'll fine everybody all 
round ten cents. (All la/ugh loudly^ Sam looks very iev ere, hut 
does nothing.) This here society is a runnin' Into the ground, 
that*8 just what's the matter with it (All laugh.) Mr. Fethers, 
why don*t you read the minutes of the previous meeting ? If you 
don't know your duties why jest say so at once. 

Bob. 1 was waiting, Mr. President, till you got through fining 
the Society. 

Sa/m. Mr. Secretary, please proceed. 

Bob. (Meads.) Fagtown, Aprile the 19th. The Fagtown Ly- 
ceum met according to contract, President Samuel Slow in^ the 
€^air« Jim Bil^ wsui fined tea cents for insulting a Tisitor, vii^ 



THE DEBATING SOOIETY. 49 

pulliiig: the chair from under Maria Stubbs as she sat down. 

Fred Baker was fined five cents for refusing to put coal into the 
stove when the chairman ordered him to do it The question 
discussed was, ^^Besohed, That the hen that sits on the eggs is 
the mother of the chickens, instead of the hen that lays the eggs,*' 
Decided unanimously in favor of the hen that laid the eggs, because 
there's a leetls more than settin* required to hatch chickens. A 
hen may set on a door-knob for six months and not hatch any 
chickens nor door-knobs either. Mr. President, I would add, with 
your permission, that I have hooked all these fines carefully. I 
have four or five string of figures clear down the page^ but no- 
body has paid a cent ot 'em yet 

Sam. Fine them all again if they don't pay, I rather guess 
that'll bring 'em to time. (Alllaugh.^ Oraer! {Raps Umdiy,) 
If there is no objections, the minutes will stand improved, 

Dick. Mr. President, improved is not the word. It ought to 
be reproved. 

8am, I say, it is mproved. 

Dick, I say, it is r^roved. 

Ike. You're both wrong. It is approved. 

Sam, Sit down there. Ike Barton I Address the President, 
when you speak. 

Fred, {SJwuiing,) Mr. President t Mr. President! Mr. Presi. 
dent (Jack is slwuting Mr, President at the sams iim^,) 

Sam, Stop your noise there, sit down both of you. 

Fred, All I wanted to say was, that I thought you were right 

Sofn. All right I The chair decides that the word is improved. 
The minutes stand improved. 

Jack, That decision is not fair. I appeal to the house, 

Sam, You can't appeal from that decision. It takes a ma- 
jority. 

Jack, Mr. Chairman, I rather think this society is a majority, 
and the chairman is a minority. {To the boys) Ain't that so? 

SffoeroL Yes, yes. We'll have an appeal. 

Jack, Anyhow, Gushing says, the chairman can not dedde a 
question he is interested in. 

Dick, That is correct I move we have a committee. 

Sain, I don't see any second to that motion, but I'll take the 
responsibility of appointing a committee to tna out whether the 
minutes stand improved or r^prov^ 

Dick, Or approved. 

Sam, Secretary, fine that man ten cents for contempt of court 
The chsdr can stat^ the question without assistiuice. That com- 
mittee will be a standing committee. It will ^a&d at the table 
In the comer and come to a decision. 

Fred. Who is the committee f 

Sam, Fine that man five cents fm disorder, Mr. Becretarf. 
Tha committee will be Tom Daily, wh© ha^nH said a word t©. 
■Igkt He's beea ^lakis* deep en th# qu^tk)a« Ike B&rtOB. 




50 THE DEBATING SOCIETY, 

and Jim Siler. Gentlemen of the committee, I hope you realize 
the great responsibility that rests upon you. Retire and bring in 
your verdict. [Gommittee retire to the corner and consult the dic- 
tionary a few moments ' diey come back.) 

Tom, {Q-ravely.y Mr. President, we have done our duty. We 
have acquitted ourselves as citizens and patriots. We have found 
a verdict. We found It in the dictionary. According to the old 
dictionary on the table, t'mprove means to improve^ reprove means 
to reprove, approve means to approve. We decide that to be sure, 
it was best to put in all three. 

Sam. Very well done ! The committee is discharged, and the 
Secretary may reprove, improve and approve the minutes. The 
first speaker on the affirmative, is Thomas Daily. The debate 
will now begin. 

Tom. (Pulls out a paper full of notes. Pres. and See. note argu- 
ments.) Mr, President, and fellow members of the Fagtown Ly- 
ceum and Literary Social and Intellectual Improvement Society: 
The question to-night is, ** Resolved, That the horse is a greater 
benefactor than the whale is,'^ First place, what is a benefactor I 
A benefactor is something that is useful, as I understand the 
subject. Then a horse is a benefactor, a cow is a benefactor, even 
the hog is a benefactor, so is a wheelbarrow. I guess you might 
say boils were benefactors for they do some good 'cordin^ to the 
doctors, though for my part I don't set much store by 'em. {Gets 
eloquent.) Now, Mr. President, I'm for the horse every time. A 
horse is used for a great many useful uses, and what is the use of 
denyin' it? Now, who ever used a whale for any useful use, I'd 
like to know ? They're too big. You can't do anything with 
them if you had one. I can prove it by the Bible. Jonah had a 
whale and he was glad enough to get rid of it. I suppose the 
negative won't try to upset the Bible will they? I'd just like to 
see 'em try it. I'm for the horse as I said. The horse is useful. 
Of what use is the whale ? If the whale is a benefactor, he must 
have done some good to somebody. Show me the man the whale 
ever benefactured and I'll give up. {Grows more eloquent.) I'm 
for the horse. The horse is useful and the whale isn't. ^^Qiales 
are hard to raise, too, and I guess they must be pretty expensive. 
Suppose they were benefactors. You couldn't raise enough of 
*em to do any good. Just let the negative tiy raising a few whales 
and they'll give up soon enough. I'm for the horse. He is a 
benefactor and the whale isn^t Suppose jou want to cross the 
creek, are you going to catch a whale and ride him across? Not 
much. You go to Sie field and catch a horse. {A voice from the 
negative. If you can) What if a horse is hard to catch, is a whale 
any easier to catch? I'm for the horse. The horse has lots of 
horse sense, but the whale hasn't even horse sense. He don't 
know enough to dive down out of the wet when it rains. I'm 
for the horse. {Seated) 

Bob. (Eead») Negative, eTim §il^. 



THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 51 

Jim,. Mr. President, I am for the whale. If the whale isn't 

a benefactor where will you find one? The gentleman on the 
confirmative of this question tries to run down the whale. He 
Bays they are not plenty. What if they ain't? Angels ain't very 
plenty in these parts either, but they're good enough for all that 
How does he know that whales are scarce? He hasn't seen any 
round here. I guess horses are about as scarce where whales 
grow as whales are here. That ain't no argument at all. A 
thing don't have to be plenty to be a benefactor. It's got to be 
good, that's all. Now I can show the confirmative in two min- 
utes that the whale is oi some use. Where would the women gQt 
their whalebones if it wasn't for the whale? Take 'em out of 
a horse I 'spose. Just think of it. Every woman in the world 
is interested in the whale, and when a thing is good for the wo- 
men it is a benefactor. That's all I have to say. That one argu- 
ment is enni.igh to upset the confiirnative. (Seats himself.) 

Lick. i^Ir. President, I rise to a point of order. Jim Slier 
said confirmative three times for affirmative, 

Jim. That is no point of order. It is on^L-y a point of criticism. 

8am, The chair decides that point of order to be out of order. 

Bob. Ike Barton, afllrnrntive. 

Ike. Mr. Chairman^ I'm for the affirmative. But I don't see 
tnat there is any room for argument Everybody knows that the 
whale is no benefactor and that the horse is. What do great men 
say of the horse and the whale ? Did General Grant ride a whale 
at the battle of Pittsburg Landing? Not much. He rode a 
horse. W^hat did that fellow say who was piajdng Richard 
somebody, down at the hall the other night ? Did he say, A whale ! 
a whale! my kingdom for a whale? No sireel He yelled like 
a whitehead for a horse, (Seats himself.) 

Bob. Fred Baker, negative. 

Fred. Mr. President, this is a big question, and the negative 
has the biggest side of it. (Oet$ eloquent at once and gesticulates 
wildly.) The whale is a big thing, and we havn't said one half 
that can be said about it. No, not one third. Now, when this 
question says whale, it means more than just the whales that livt^ 
in the se^. We all know that any big thing is called a whale. 
There is a big punkin in our cornfield that dad calls a whale. I 
bet that punkin will make twenty pies. Then isn't it a bene- 
factor? I claim it is. Then the teacher always whales bad boys 
when they don't behave. Isn't that whale a benefactor? 
Of course it is. Then there is a treemenjus amount of oil used. 
Dad- says it comes from whales. Now, how could we have sperm 
oil if it wasn't for the sperm oil whale, or castor oil, if it wasn't 
for the castor oil whale, or linseed oil, if it wasn't for the linseed 
whale? Let the afiirmative get around that if they Can. 

Ike. (Jumping.) 3Ir. President, I rise to a point of order. Tb© 
gentleman is off the subject He hasn't said a word ftboul beiM^ 
m45t*ari. 



02 THE DEBATING SOCIETY. 

8cmh, The chair decides that oil may be a benefactor if tht 
affirmative can prove it. 

Fred. I can soon prove it. The Bible speaks of oil poured on 
troubled waters. That kind of oil is a benefactor. Then there 
was the widow^s oil that she kept in a meal barrel. Wasn't that 
a benefactor? The affirmative bring in the Bible. Well give 
them Bible till they're sick of it. That is all I have to say. 
The other side have not rebutted any of our arguments. {8itL) 

Boh, Dick Bulard, affirmative. 

Dick, Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen. {All laugh. A 
voice, '^ Where are the ladieaJ'f) 1 mean Mr. President, and— 
Mr. President, 

8a7n. Mr, Bulard! 

Dick. Mr. President, I haven*t much to say. I'll submit the 
question, with the points of my coUegs, {Sits down.) 

Boh, Jack Irving, negative. 

Jack. {Hunts for hi$ notes and can not find them,) Mr. Presi. 
dent— {Looks for his notes.) Mr. President, everybody knows 
the whale is a humbug. I mean the horse. We've proved that 
{Sits down) 

Tom. Mr. President, in conclusioii, I say rule out the argu- 
ments on the punkin, and on whalin' in school. If you can't tie 
a question down somewhere what is the use of argument? {Sam 
and Bob compa/re notes.) 

Sam, The committee of officers decide that we'll rule out the 
punkin and keep the whalin' in school, because that is to the 
point. The affirmative gain the question by one majority. They 
made ^e arguments, and the others only^our. ^ciety is aa 
joumed. {Ourtam) 



THE AMU^^B^MiiU^T UiECLB. 5^ 



THE AMUSEMENT CIRCLE 



CHARACTERS. 
FlORK2!^CB, 

Mat. I Willis. 

Ida. Arthur. 



Florence, Wliat shall we do this evening! I am tired of play- 
ing games. 

Willis, And I am tired of authors. 

May. Let's pi ay charades. 

Arthur. Charades are stupid. 

Ida. I will tell you what to do. Suppose we tell stories. 

Willis, Humph! That is easy enough. Anybody can teD 
stories. 

Florence. Ma says it is dreadful wicked to tell stories, even in 
fun. 

Ida^ Pshaw! When you don't tell a lie it isn't A fairy story 
isD't a lie, because you don't believe it, and nobody tells one ex- 
pecting you to belieye it 

Willis. All right, Ida, you tell us a fairy story, 

Ida> No, each one shall select his own story. Florence, you 
know lots of stories. You begin. 

Florence. Very well, what shall I tell you. (Thinks a moment,) 
I will tell a story of " The beautiful Maiden, the Gay Boiight, 
and the Wicked old Giant" Once, a long time ago — 

Arthur. How long ago ? 

Florence. Don't bather me. A long, long time ago — twenty 
years ago I guess, there lived in a neat Tittle cottage on the edge 
of a great forest, an old wood-chopper, and his beautiful daugh- 
ter, Sylvia. The old man was poor, and Sylvia never attended 
the seminary, but when she went to a picnic in figured calico, 
with a five-cent blue ribbon round her waist, and a rosebud in 
her bosom, all the young men from the college left the seminary 
girls to fall at the feet of the beautiful Sylvia. They longed to 
feast their eyes on her beautiful charms. They delighted to look 
into her great dreamy eyes, and she delights to have them do so, 
becatisa she knew that lemonade and peanuts w^re ifieritable. 



64 THE AMUSEMENT CIKCLE. 

Oh, how the seminary girls turned green with envy when they 
saw the gallant voung men rush up in battalions to treat Sylvia to 
lemonade. And when one young man with a polka^ot neck-tie 
and three-story collar, triumphantly took Sylvia away to the 
swing, the other young men from the college wore a great big 
thundercloud over each eyebrow, and swore vengeance, awlTi] 
bloody vengeance. On one such occasion, tradition says that 
seven high-Dom youths rushed frantically down to the lake, and 
were about to plunge in and end their woes, when the man who 
kept boats spoke up full gallantly and said, "No bathing here, 
gents, if you please." Sadly they wended their way back to the 
feeminary girls, and in sheer desperation spent the rest of the day 
in croquet Just beyond the forest and back of the seminaiy 
grounds there was a great, dark cavern in the edge of a cornfield. 
Here lived a monstrous giant, a regular pirate of a giant. He 
had an arm as long as a fence rail, and teeth as big as a fruit-can. 
He ate a whole ox every day for dinjier. Once in a while he got 
tired of beef— he never would touch hash — then he sallied out 
and caught a seminary girl and ate her. He used to eat college 
boys before the semmary was built, but after the girls came, he 
wouldn't touch a boy. He said they were too tough. The boys 
even got so bold they went and stole all his melons, and pulled 
his early cherries, till life became a burden to the poor giant. A 
college boy who had been dreadfully smitten with the charms of 
the fair enchantress, Sylvia, had in his despair turned pirate, with 
his headquarters in a peach orchard not far off. One morning 
as he sat under a peach-tree musing as to the best means of cur- 
ing a cold in the head brought on by too close application to 
business, he heard heart-rendiug, hair-lifling screams issuing 
from Sylvia's humble domicile. He seized the stub of a lead 
pencil, the most convenient weapon, and with the deadly imple- 
ment he soon arrived at the scene of action to find the giant car- 
rying off Sylvia, while the poor old father was in tears. The 
student, after a flourish or two, plunged his lead pencil through 
the giant's heart. The grim old villain fell dead exclaiming, 
"That's the man who took my melons." Sylvia fell in the arms 
of her deliverer and murmered, *^ Take me, Frederick, my pre- 
server, I am thine, but don't muss my collar." 

Willis. Then what happened? 

Florence. That was all. Now May, it is your turn. 

Arthur. You didn't say whether the girl had false teeth or 
not 

Florence. Of course she hadn't 

May. I will tell you a tine story, of true love. (All laugh.) 
But you mustn't laugh, for it is very touching. Once upon a 
time, a gallant youth of forty winters became enamored of a fair 
young creature of thirty-five summers. He was tall and stalwart 
ni^ » imighUy bearing, that is, he would have been knightly If 




THE AMUSEMENT CIRCLE. 55 

the cruel fatea had not doomed him to work by the month in a 
cheese factory. She was a perfect picture of loveliness. She 
was tall and willowy. She spoke with a lisp, and wore No. 7 
shoes. Her front teeth were all good. Her eyes were blue, and 
her hair a splendid golden yelldW. It was that hair that won his 
heart. His name was Jeremiah, and hers Sarnantha. He called 
her Manth for short, and she called him Ijliah. Miah used to 
call on Manth regularly three times a week^ Sundays, Wednes- 
days and Fridays, until her father found that he was nothing but 
a hand in a cheese factory. Then the old gentleman got mad 
and forbid the gallant lover^s seeing the trusting young creature, 
his golden-haired willowy daughter. The girl said she would 
see him, aud the old man said she shouldn't. So he shut her 
up in the garret, and fed her on bread and water. That stern pa- 
rent was determined to break the spirit of the poor young thing. 
But Miah happened to pass one day going to town with a load of 
cheese. She spied him through a crack and softly yelled, ''Miah! 
oh my I Miah!" He heard, and climbing up peeped through a 
knot-hole and heard her sad story. He went back to the wagou 
and brought a cheese and put it through the small window. 
Every night after that T^Iiah brought her a cheese which she ate 
while her cruel, cruel father wondered why she grew fatter all 
the time. In six months he gave up the job as hopeless and gave 
his consent. i\Iiah and Manth were married in the village church 
at early candle light. 

Ida. That is a^ splendid story. 

Arthur, Humph! I can beat that. There was too much 
cheese about it. 

Willis. Say Id^, don't tell us a love story. Tell an Indian 
story or something that boys care about. 

Ida. I shan't tell you any Indian stories. I'll tell a fairy story 
I read once. A long time ago in a far country there were two . 
twin sisters who loved each other very much. They were so fond 
of each otlier that they could not bear to be separated. One cu- 
rious thing was, that both were afraid of rabbits. A wicked old 
witch who hated the little girls because they were so happy, used 
a spell and turned one of them into a white rabbit- But she told 
the poor rabbit that the spell would be broken if her sister ever 
spoke kindly to her. The rabbit watched ever}'- opportunity to 
appear in the presence of her sister. At first the girl was fright- 
ened, and then she became angry to think that her wishes should 
be so crossed by a dumb brute. One day she concealed a stick 
under her cloak, and when the little animal leaped into the 
path before her and looked up pleadingly, she struck it a cruel 
blo^\over the head. The rabbit cried out '"* You have killed your 
little sister," and instantly vanished. The poor girl was horrified 
and stricken with remorse. She took to her bed and soon died, 
calling to the last for her lost sister. They buried her under a 



56 THE AJMUSEMENT CIKCLH 

favorite tree where she used to sit The rabbit never could be 
found, tiut people passing that grave on moonlight nights say 
that a little white rabbit may be seen sitting at the head of the 
grave. But it always runs awa}^ when any one approaches. 

Florence. What a queer story ! What does It mean ? 

May. I never heara of the like. 

WillU. Now, I'll tell my story. We have heard about true 
love, rU tell you about crossed lova Listen, for it's a tip-top 
story. 

Ida, Well, don^ praise it too much yourself, 

Willis. There was a fellow out in Iowa who fell in love with 
a dreadful pretty girl, whose father had just moved out. from York 
State. She was the x>rettiest girl in four counties. She was a 
stunner. He fell in love with her at a picnic. He had it bad 
from the start He proposed lemonade, but she didn't drink 
lemonade before dinner. He proposed peanuts, but she didn't 
like peanuts. He mentioned gingerbread, but she couldn't bear 
gingerbread. He was getting worse and worse gone all the time, 
but she didn't care a straw for him. He proposed a swing, but 
swinging made her head ache. What did he do then ? Shoot 
himself? Not much. He went and swung with another girl 
who was as pretty as she was. That's what he did. And he mar- 
ried the other girl too, and the York girl found out too late that 
she had carried her head a little too high. Now Arthur, let us 
hear vour piece. 

May. Why, is that all ? That's no story. 

Willis. All! How much do you want? He got married. 
Isn't that the end of a story ? 

Arthur. I'll tell you a tale of the briny deep. It is a first-rate 
one. Get ready to listen. It is about raging waves dashing 
mountains high, and so on. All ready? 

Girls. Oh yes, do go on I 

Arthur. Be careful you donH miss any of it Here goe»: 

Three wls8 men of Gotham, 
Went to sea in a bowl ; 
If the bowl had been stronger 
My tale had been longer. 
But so weak was the Dowl, 
That they sank every toaie 

Florence, Oh you humbug t 

May. It's a shame. 

Id^. We wont stand such an impositiim. 

{AH €has§ Arthwr out.) 



THE PATENT RIGHT AGENT< 



THE PATENT RIGHT AGENT. 



CHARACTEBS. 

Mb. Thompsoh, afarm&r. j Thb Ajg^eht. 



TJiompsan seated reading a paper. Enter ths Ageni* 

Agent, Good moftiing, Mr. Thompson ! How do you do t 

T. Waal, I can't complain ! How are you ? Take a seat. 

Agent. (Glibly.) Lovely weather, isn't it ? Splendid for the 
spring wheat. I see you are sowing early. That is the way to 
raise a good crop. 

T. I always try to get my work done in good season. (Eyeing 
ifie Agent) Be you a cattle buyer ? 

Agent. Oh, no, I'm trayeling a little. That's all. I tell you, 
Mr. Thompson, the farmers up this way are driversy and no mis- 
take. I rather think you are the shai-pest one of the lot, too. 

T. How the deuce do you know that my name is Thompson? 

Agent. (LaugJis.) Hal ha! you are a slv one! The idea that 
a stranger could travel in this county and not hear of Thomp- 
son, the foremost man in the county. (Aside.) I'll soft sawder 
him a little. 

T: Waal, stranger, I reckon you are about right Everybody 
does know Thompson. (A»ide,) He has something to sell, but 
he can't soft soap me. 

Agent. Mr. Thompson, you have some of the best sheep down 
in the pasture that I've seen in this State, I am & judge of 
sheep, too. 

T. Undoubtedly you are I I guess you can*t beat them in 
these parts. (Aside.) What has he to sell, anyway? 

Agent. (Aside) He can't resist flattery, I see. Ill give him 
a little more. (Aloud.) Why is it that you always get more for 
your wool and your pork and produce than your neighbors get f 

T. Because they are better than anybody else's ? I tell you 
what it is, stranger, I know how to raise stuff, and I know how 
to sell it. The man who gets ahead of old man Thompson in a 
bargain- is no spring chicken, I ean teD yo^ 



58 



THE PATENT RIGHT AGENT. 



Agent (Aside.) Now, I'll get him sure. (Alowiy glibly.) 
You are right! I like to see a business maa; it is a pleasure 'to 
deal with a man who understands business. By the way, I have 
an article here I would like to have your opinion on. 

jT. Waal, Mister, I won't charge you anything for my opinion, 
but I shan't buy, that's sura 

Agent Oh, never mind the buying. In fact I don*t know 
that I care about selling. I have a valuable invention here, and 
I just want your opinion of it. Your opinion is worth 
something. 

r. So you are a patent rightman ? 

Agent (With sJmo of indignation.) Mr. Thompson, yon do 
me a ^eat injustice, i am no patent right peddler. 1 am a 
capitalist 

T, A what? 

Agent, A capitalist 

T, What is a capitalist ? Be you a iightnin*-rod man or a 
sewin* machine agent? 

Agent Oh, no I no! Mr. Thompson, you hurt my feelings, 
you do really. I am a man of means, I bought this valuable 
mvention from the originator, and I am furnishing capital to 
handle it—money, you know. 

T, (Laughs.) Yes, I guess I see. Mister. But I think all the 
capital I want to handle a patent with is a pair of gloves. 

Agent, (Laughs.) Oh, you don't mean it But I must show 
you this little machme ; it is a beauty. It will do the work of 
ten men at the expense of one boy. 

T, Humph, well that is cheap enough. 

Agent, I'll show it to you. (Takes model from his valise.) 
This is called the champion potato-digger. (Sets machine on tJie 
table) (Any ingenious hoy can make the ''^ potato digger " from a 
toy wagon. Attach some small sho^dels to one of the axles so that 
they may be raised and lowered by me-ans of strings worked by a 
lever above.) There is a machine that will revolutionize the age. 
Examine it Here are the shovels which unearth the potatoes. 
While a jerk of the lever throws the potatoes onto this screen, 
just beneath the body here. An endless belt carries them, over, 
sorts them, and puts the small ones in the front box, and the 
larger ones behind. 

f, Waal, that is no small potatoes, is It! 

Agent, To be sure it isn't. That is one of the greatest in- 
ventions of the nineteenth century. The inventor is a benefactor 
to his race. 

T, How does the thing work t 

Agent, Capitally. It is a grand success. All you hare to dc 
is to hitch your team to it and a boy can drive and maaAg© it 

T, It lacks one thing, I calc'late. 

Agent What is that? 



THE PATENT RIGHT AGBl^. 59 

r. It should have a big pot to boll the potatoes in, and a 
iteam masher to mash 'em. 

Agent. (Laughs) Kot a bad joke, Mr. Thompson. Why not 
have the butter and salt and pepper to season them, too? But 
really, isn't this the best thing you ever saw ? 

T, I guess it is, stranger. What do you ask for one ? 

Agent, We do not sell single machines unless we sell a nght 
to use them. 

jT. Well, what in the name of sense, use would the ma- 
chine be without the right to run it ? 

Agent Oh, you misunderstand me, I mean the exclusive right 
for the township. You see with one of these machines you can 
dig all the potatoes in a county. 

T> Yes, I see, if a man had time enough. 

Agent. No trouble about time. Just keep on till you're done. 

T. {Eesumes hu pa2)e7\) I don^t want it. 

Agent I will sell you a machine for one hundred dollars, and 
the right to use it for one hundred more. 

T, Humph! That is something like paying five cents a 
pound for beefsteak, and five cents more for th.e privilege of eat 
ingit 

AgerU. Not at all, sir. You secure an exclusive right 

r. (Gruffly.) I don't want it. • 

Agent But an enterprising farmer like you 

T. Bosh! The enterprising farmer business is played out; 
• you can't wheedle me. {Tries to read.) 

Agent This is an opportunity seldom offered. 

T. Indeed ! There is an agent around every week with somt 
such unparalleled offers. {Tries to read.) 

Agent. Allow me to explain further the great advantages — 

T, {Oimffly.) Get out and let me alone. 

Agent Mr, Thompson, my dear sir. 

T, (Jumping up quickly.) Now, sir, get out or 1*11 break 
your neck. 

Agent, Oh, certainly, I will not stay if my presence is dis. 
agreeable. But I was about to say that an improvement in the 
digging apparatus is about to be patented, and you will get the 
benefit 

T. I'll give you an improvement, you rascal. (Seizes a hoot- 
jack arid 7nishes at the agent, who grabs his valise and exits.) 
(Takes paper.) I'm afraid I will do violence yet to some of these 
agents if they don't keep away. (Meads quietly a moment* — 
Agent re-enters.) 

Agent Mr. Thompson, I'll sell you a right and take it in 
trade. What do you say to that proposition ? 

T. {Seizing the boot-jack.) I will brain you. (Suddenly poAises,) 
(Aside.) Stop, I'll take a more terrible revenge, (Aloud.) X 
aon't mind talking a trade. Why did you not mention thai 
moaetf 



00 



THE PATEG^T RIGHT AGEITO. 



Agmt, (LoAifTis.) Trade is our last resort We take ttM 
when parties will not give cash. 

T. 1 will give you Sie two hundred dollars in trade, but mind 
I must select the kind of trade, arid it must go in at full market 
rates. 

Agent Well, I suppose one kind of trade is about as good a^ 
another at market prices. It must be sound, though. 

T. Certainly! I keep nothing unsound on my farm. Make 
out the papers. (Gets pen and ink,) 

Agent (Fills hlanks.) * This is an exclusive right to use the 
champion potato digger in Plum township, (Hand^ him paper) 
This is a contract by which I agree to sell you a machine pay- 
able in trade of youi selection at market rates. (Gives him th§ 
paper) 

T. {Pockets the papers) Is the bargain finished now, 
stranger? 

Agent Not quite. You must sign a duplicate of the contract 
agreeing to deliver me tliat stock. 

T, It is hardly necessary, Mister. I'U give you that trade now. 
(Opens his pocket-hook and takes out a paper) Here is a county 
right to make and sell a patent hog yoke. 1 gave one hundrea 
dollars tor it That is its market value.' Here is a county right 
to tan coon skins. That is one hundred dollars. That makes us 
square. 

Agent Mr. Thompson, I 

T\ No backing out, Mister. It is all fair and square. I was 
to pick the trade and put it in at market rates. 

Agent Well, you are ahead. I'm done for this time, sttre 
Good-day, Mr. Thompson. 

T* Good-day, Come round when you have anything aew. 
Curtain. 




THE SOCIETY FOR BUPFEESSION OF GOSSIP. 61 



THE SOCIETY FOR THE SUPPRESSION 
OF GOSSIP. 



CHARACTERS* 

Mrs. Hart well. Chairman, 

Miss Betsey Pkudence, Secretary^ with a squeaky voiu 

Miss Wise, with glasses. 

Mrs. Major Warner, with a military dispoBitioTh. 
Mrs. Starch, I Miss Nutt, 

Mrs. Filbert, | Mrs. Ripple* 

All Imsy talking a8 the curtain rises, 

Mrs, H. {Raps on the table.) The society will please come to 
order. (All quiet.) Sisters, you all know what we have met for, 
so let us proceed at once to business. Miss Prudence, is there 
any unfinished business before the society? 

Miss F. Mrs. President, I think the business is about all un- 
finished. All we did at the last meeting was to organize. 

Mrs. n. To be sure, we all know that But was there not 
, some particular matter left over ? 

Miss P. Oh, certainly. This society agreed at the last meetr 
Ing to call itself the " Society for the Suppression of Gossip,*' 
and furthermore formerly voted to discuss methods of suppres- 
§ion the first thing at this meeting. 

Miss Wi$e, And I think we had better begin at once. What 
is the use of delay,^ when we agreed to take that up the first 
thing ? 

Mrs. Starch, (With $how of dignity,) Miss Wise, you forget 
that certain formalities must always be gone through with in 
parliamentary bodies. 

Miss W. Indeed! This is a parliamentary body is it? Well, 
I should not have known it if you hadn't told me. I'm not in 
favor of making a body of any kind out of this society^ and wast- 
ing the time in reading minutes and voting and discussion. That 
it what the men do. 

Mrs, 8. I don't care a hair-pin what the men do, but I want 
things done properly. 

Mrs, Filbert, And so do I. Bat what is the sense of so.mizeb 
ceremony! 

Mi$$ ifutL That is just what I want to koow. 



62 THE SOCIETY FOR SUPPRESSION OF G()88IF. m 

Mrs, Major Warner, It is fitting that our society should do 
everything with due deliberation, and keep a proper record. 
The eyes of the world are on us. 

Miss W, If we don't do less talking, the ears of the world will 
be on us. 

Mrs. Maj. Who is talking, I should like to know? For my 
part the voice of Mrs. Major'Warner shall always be for deliher- 
at ion. 

Miss W. Deliberation! That is just what the men do. They 
meet and deliberate. And what does it all amount-to? 

Mrs. Ripple. Mrs. Chairman, call this house to order. Here 
we have been talking for half an hour about nothing. I am in a 
great hurry to get home. Why can't we begin? 

Mrs. R. (Raps.) Order! The next thing before the house is 
to suggest the best methods for the prevention and suppression of 
gossip. 

Mrs. Maj. Is this discussion to be carried on in a dignified 
manner and proper record made in the journal, or is it to be an 
undignified jumble of remarks?" 

Mrs. S. I think the lady's language reflects. 

Mrs. Maj. {SnappisJily.) On whom ? 

Mrs. II. What is the pleasure of the society? 

Miss W. My pleasure is that we don't want any discussion. 
Discussion is what the men like, and I don't want to be like a 
horrid man. 

Mrs. Maj. Miss Wise, if you had married a hoiTid man long 
ago, you might have a different opinion of them. 

Miss W. ^Oh. I dare say it wouldn't improve my opinion of 
them. 

Mrs. Starch. For my part I have never regretted that I be- 
came Mrs. Starch. 

Mrs. Maj. Nor do I regret that I became Mrs. Mai or Warner. 
Men are not so bad after all, if you know how to manage them. 
I never feared matrimony. 

Miss TT. Nor would I, but men aren't worth the managing. 
I have a higher mission than to manage an insignificant man. 

Mrs. Filbert. {Asid€.) Good reason! You can't get a man to 
manage. 

Miss Nutt. Mrs. President, if we are not going to talk about 
anything but matrimony, how are we going to suppress gossip! 

Miss P. We are wasting our valuable time. If we have a 
mission, we had better begin; if we have not, we had better go 
home, 

Mrs. R. So say L 

Miss N. And I. 

Mrs.F, AndL 

Mrs. H. I suppose the members of the society all have their 
views upon the subject of the suppression of gossip, and are 
T^i^Aj to itate them. 



THl!i SOCIETY FOR SUPPRESSION OP GOSSIP. 63 

Miss W> I have mine, and am prepared to state tliem to \ht 
point. 

Mrs. Maj. {With dignity,) I have mine, and am prepared to 
state them ' becomingly. 

Miss. W. {Aside) And tediously. 

Mrs. H. I shall by virtue of my position, state my views first 

Miss P, {Aside to another.) It "would 'a looked better if she 
had called on somebody t-lse first. 

Mrs. H. I think the best way to st< , people 

stop talking about one another. Wnt^ uja^ is <l^^^k:, i, :•^sip will 
die of itself. I have resolved that I will not say anything at all 
when people come to me with storics. and some of them do come 
pretty often. They a -^5, too. 

Mrs. 8. Wh.om do • . ,ike to know. 

Mrs. H. Oh, I shan't mention any names. Come to think oi 
it, that is a good idea too. If you must talk, don't mention any 
names. 

Mrs. F. But what are you going to do for news ? A body 
must have news. 

Miss N. And how are you to avoid mentioning names if peo- 
ple ask you? 

Mrs. H, Don't tell 'em. Let 'em guess. They will guess 
near enough. If you want news, my plan don't prevent listening 
when people talk to you, only do not, for the life of you, mention 
any names. 

Miss W. That plan won't work. 

Mrs. H. {With dignity.) Perhaps some member will present 
^ better one. 

Mrs. Maj. It has no method to it. 

Miss W. It has too much method. 

Mrs. 8, The method seems to be to hear all you can, and say 
all you can, but don't mention any names. 

Mrs. R. It won't work. 

Mrs. H. {Spitefully.) Tried it have you ? Now, Mrs. Starch, 
will you present a letter plan ? 

Mrs. 8. I will try. The late lamented Mr. Starch always used 
to say, my dear, be careful how you speak. It is not so much 
^hat you say, as how you say it. Now, there is the secret of the 
^^.ho]e process in a nut-shell. Be careful how you say things. 

Miss TF. That is a very good family regulation, but it would 
not effect much in public. Doubtless the late lamented Mr. 
^^rarch intended that excellent maxim strictly for domestic use. 

Mrs. 8. I will not have the memory of the late Mr. Starch in- 
sulted. I shall not proceed further if X can not be protected from 
unbecoming interruptions. {Seats herself with stately disdmn.) 

Miss W. My idea in regard to suppressing gossip is to sup- 
press it What is the use of talking about it. Let everybody 
stop gossiping and the thing is doneT When people t&Ik to you-. 



04 THE SOCIETY FOR 8UPPRESSI0K OF GOSSIP. 

don't encourage them. Tell them you do not wish to hear it 
When a horrid man elopes with some other horrid man's wife, 
pay no^ attention to it. You can read it all up in the papers, and 
get it all at once. Woman must have the news. She has a mis- 
si on, and should store her mind. But let her store it from the 
papers. 

Miss P, I declare! That is worse than talking. 

Mig$ W, If you please Miss Betsey Prudence, I will state my 
opinions first. 

Mrs. F. How about that trouble with the Smith's 1 

Mis$ TT. {So/remtically^ Oh, I am glad you mentioned that 
I can tell you all about it. Everybody believes that Smith beats his 
wife, I happened to say so. I mentioned it to but five or six peo- 
ple. They went and told it and that is where the trouble comes 
m. If people did not tell what you told them, there would be 
ao need of suppressing -gossip, 

Mrg, Maj, Better not tell them anything. 

Miss N, Just what I think. 

Mrs. Maj. Major Warner, my husband, says, always to move 
on the enemy in proper miiitaiy order. That is the motto of his 
wife, Mrs. Major Warner. Take the enemy in detail, and compel 
him to surrender. I would have a pledge circulated for ladies 
to sign by which they would pledge themselves to abstain from 
gossip all the rest of their lives. 

Se'seraL Oh, no! no! dreadful! 

Mrs. H. Every lady who signed such a pledge would admit 
herself to be a gossip. It would never work. 

Mrs. 8. I should consider it the very worst thing we could do 
for our noble cause. 

Miss P. Such a measure would be a little too strong. 

Mrs. E. You don't catch me signing such a paper. When I 
want to talk 111 talk. Oh, I nearly forgot Mr. Ripple is con- 
ducting that divorce case in the county court. He says the devel- 
opments are startling, and from what he told me at noon, I should 
say they were. 

Miss W. {Bunning to Mrs. R.) Do t^ii ua 

Mrs. Maj. Wait till I finish my speech. 

Mrs. 8. Oh, bother your speech. 

Miss N. Go on, Mrs. Ripple. 

Mrs> F. Please do. 

Mrs. Maj. As I said, I would have a pled^ drawn up in du« 
form — 

Miss P. Oh, Mrs. Ripple, do not keep us in suspense. 

Mrs. E* Well, you all know that Mr. Henry Deilmont over- 
heard — 

Mrs. Maj. (Mushing up.) What was that about Mr. Deil- 
mont? (All ru^ up (ground Mrs. E. erying, ^^Qoon^ go «»/•* 
OurUtinfalk.) 



A LAWSUIT. 63 



A LAWSUIT. 



fUUTS TEBSUS STiJK& 



CHARACTEES. 

Sqttihe Block, Justics of ths Peacs^ 
Kr&' Slack, oicner of tTu apple pomace^ 
** Old Billy Evans,'* owner of tht cow. 
Bpoutkr, aiiarney for defendant* 
Flight, attormv for plaintiff* 
Tim Hufp, ] 
Mrs= Snack, >mt7U%M$* 
Batjjs Eyaks, ) 



Squire. {Court sitting) We are now ready to takve tip the 
case of Slack versv4 Evang, Plaintifi, Mrs. Slack, are yoo 
present? - 

Mrs. 8, I am. 

8quir$, Defendant, Williani Evans, are you present? 

Evans. I am, Squire Block. 

Squire. Now, Mrs, Evans, will you state to the court the ex- 
act nature of the damage you have sustained from trespass of 
defendant's cow, and your reasons for fixing the sum at twenty 
dollars? 

Mrs. 8, Square Block, you know I'm a ^eat hand for ^ood 
cider vinegar. Cider vinegar is desprit nice on spring greens 
and early York cabbages. Speakin' of cabbages reminds me 
that the worms are just swarmin' on the cabbages. The first 
ones I saw was a week ago come Sunday. Now, if there's one 
there's a million, and — — 

Squire, Mrs, Slack, I'm afraid you are not exactly getting at 
the case. 

Mrs. 8. Oh, yes, I am, Squire. I'll get to the case in a min- 
nit. But the cowcumbers are growing mighty nic^ They are aa 
green ai grass, and just as full of blossoms aa 



66 A LAWSUIT. 

Squire. Mrs. Slack, before you go any further I must ask 
you what cabbages and cucumbers have to do with this case. Do 
you not claim that Mr. Evans' cow broke into your premises and 
ate up a barrel of apple pomace? 

Mrs. 8, That is what I claim to a «, and old Billy Evans don't 
deny it, either. 

Evans. I don't deny she ate the pomace, but I claim that the 
cow 

Squire, That will do. This will all appear in the trial. Now, 
Mrs. Slack, tell me at once what those cucumbers have to do 
with the apple pomace. 

Mrs. Slack, Squire, that is just what I was doing as fast as I 
could — a body can't tell everything at onc't Now, everybody 
knows that I make the best pickles in this neighborhood. Mrs. 
Smith thinks she can make pickles, but she can't touch mine 
within a mile 

Squire. (Impatiently.) Do get to the case. 

Mrs. 8, Well, now I've got to the case. You can't make good 
pickles without home-made cider vinegar. I wouldn't give a 
straw for store vinegar. It's nothing but rain water and shav- 
ings, and so weak it can't get out of a small auger hole. So the 
case is that all my nice cowcumbers will go to spoil because old 
Billy Evans' cow knocked a board off my fence and eat up the 
pomace that was soakin' to make vinegar. 

Evans, The cow didn't knock off a board. I claim the board . 
was off. 

Spouter, And we will prove it, too. Besides, I file objections 
to paying for those cucumbers. They have nothing to do with 
the case. You might as well put in a claim for the cabbages, 
too, for if the worms had not destroyed them they would ' have 
required vinegar, too. 

Flight Mr. Spouter, it would be no hard matter to collect pay 
for the cabbages, too. The cow broke into that garden with 
felonious intentions, and if the cabbages had been fit to eat she 
would have eaten them, too. However, for the present I will not 
advance that claim, holding it in reserve. {Pompously.) But we 
will claim damages on the cucumbers, and what's more, we will 
get them. 

Spouter, Flight, don't bring your bullying airs into this court 
I'm too old a lawyer to be frightened by a pettifogger. 

Flight. And I'm too much of a lawyer to b® insulted by such 
low remarks. It takes a gentleman to insult me. 

Spouter, We'll make you sick of this case. 

Squire, Order, gentlemen! You must preserve order in this 
court. Defendant, state your case^ 

Evans. My case, Square, is jest this. I guess my old cow did 
eat up Mrs. Slack's apple pummies that was sot for vinegar. But 
how did ahe get them pummies ? The fence was down, that's 



A LAWSUIT, 67 

how she got fnto that lot She never broke In. That *ere old 

cow is as innocent as a meriner lamb. Besides, she eat them 
pummies, and it nigh onto killed her. She has been porely ever 
since. Square, the damage to that cow's constitution is twenty- 
five dollars. That sour stuflf ruined her appetite. She hasn't 
been well since. Now, old Billy Evans ain't goin' to pay other 
people for ruininVhis best cow, not if he knows himself. 

Squire. Mr. Flight, call your witnesses. First I'll swear 
them, though. (Repeats rapidly) Hold up your right hands. 
You do all solemnly swear to tell the whole truth, all the truth, 
and m)tbing but the truth, in the cow and pomace case now pendU 
ing. {Witnesses nod.) 

Flight. Tim lialfl {Euff appears,) Mr. Huff, is your name 
Hufl? 

H, Yes, sir. 

Flight. Is it Tim Huff? 

H. Yes. 

Flight. What does Tim stand fori 

R. I really don't remember. 

Flight. Timmons, perhaps, or Timberlake ? 

E. Yes, probably. 

Flight. But I must know! 

E. Then find out. I never could. 

Flight. Perhaps Tim is all of it? 

E. It is all I ever heard. 

Flight. Weil, Mr. Huff, state what you know about this 
case. 

E, All I know is that old Billy Evans* cow ate up Mrs. 
Slack's vinegar pummies. 

FligJit. \ ou are sure of that ? 

E. 1 gu^ess I be. 

Flight. That will do. 

Spouter. {Pompously.) Stop, if you please, sir. Ydu saj 
your name is Hun ? 

E. Yes, sir, 

S. Tim Huff. 

E. Yes, sir. 

8. How do you know It is Tim Huff! 

E. How do I know it? 

S. Yes, sir, how do you know it? 

E, Well, I hadn't thought of that. 

S. I dare say, sir, Do you ever think at all? 

E. Yes, sir, I am thinking now. 

S. What are you thinking about? Such ^a remarkable fS&cl 
deserves notice. You don't even know whether you name is 
Timmons or Timberlake, or Tympanum. Now, sir, what were 
you thinking about? 

E, Squire, must I answer that question! 

Squirt. You had better do so, I think 



A LA¥/SUIT, 



H 



H. Well, I was just thinking what fools yon two la^ 
were to think of every name but Timothy, But then it isn't a 
common name, and I 'low you haven't seen a Bible lately, so.^ 
p*raps you are excusable. {All laugh.) JHi 

Squire, {Severely) Order! ^H 

8poute/r, {Angrily.) Now, sir, how do you know that old Billy 
Evans' cow feloniously devoured Mrs. Slack's pomace? 

H, Mrs. Slack told me so. 

8. Indeed! 

E. And Mrs. Snack told me sa. 

8, Indeed! 

H, And old Billy Evans told me so, too. 

8. A remarkable witness. Is that all yon knowt 

H. No, sir I . I saw her eat them. 

8. {Of elided.) Why didnt you say so at first ? That is quite^ 
enough, sir, quite enough. 

Flight. Mrs. Snack. (Witness comes forwa/rd to chair,) Mrs. 
Snack, what do you know about this case ? 

Mrs. 8. I was over at Mrs. Slack's taking tea last Tuesday 
afternoon. We were eating and talking — I had just passed up 
my cup for the fourth time — I seldom^ take more than four cups, 
and then only with warm biscuit and honey-^when v/e heard 
the dreadfulest racket and doin's in the garden lot that you ever 
heard of. I said, says I, oh I my, and, says she— well, I'll not 
say just what she did say. She went to the window and looked 
out, and she said, says she, ''That old cow of Ev^ms' has eaten 
up all my pomace and knocked the barrel to pieces. If I was a 
man V^ shoot her dead as a mackerel." Then we talked more'n 
Rn hour about it. Must I tell ail w^e said ? 

Flight. {Hastily) No, it is not necessary! Mr. Spouter, you 
naay take the witness. 

Spouter. I don't want her. Now, I will call our witness and 
get at some facts, Sallie Evans, {Witness comes forward and is 
seated) Miss Evans, what were the effects upon that cow of eat- 
ing that pomace ? 

Miss E. They made her nervous like. 

8. Restless, eh? 

Miss E. Yes! It seemed to affect her health. She didn't 
really seem like the same cow. 

8. What symptoms did she exhibit! 

Miss E. Well, you see her back was all scratched where she 
hurt herself on the fence. 

8. {Hastily) Oh, I didn't mean that Stick to the effects of 
the pomace. 

Miss E. She didn't give much milk, and that vinegar stuff 
seemed to have ruined her temper. She used to have such a 
sweet temper even in fly time. I don't believe she will evea: be 
the sama cow again. 



A LAWSUIT 69 

8* Of course not— a fine cow mined, Squire. Notice that 
Flight, Miss Evans, how do you know your father's cow is 
ruined ? 
Miss E. Because I see she is ruined, and everybody knows 

pickles and sour stuff isn't good for cows. 

Flight I confess I never saw a diet of pickles tried on a cow. 

Miss E. {Shortly.) What do lawyers "know about cows, or 
milking, or the effects of pomace ? 

Flight. That will do, Miss Evans. JSTow, Mr. Squire, if it 
please your Honor, I will proceed to sum up our case. We have 
proved beyond a doubt that a cow seized and possessed by old 
Billy Evans did feloniously, maliciously, and with malice pre- 
pense, upset, waste, trample on, destroy, devour, goree, guzzle, 
jeopardize, and otherwise set at naught a barrel of apple pomace, 
seized and possessed by Mrs. Slack, and set to make cider vin- 
egar. {Mrs,8nacky Aside. '^ Laws a* me?'') It was a clear case of 
wanton,wiilful, premeditated, unmitigated, deliberate and appall- 
ing villainy on the part of the cow, without a single extenuat 
ing circumstance. 

Mrs. Snack, Good gracious ! how dreadful I 

Flight. {Grows eloquent.) You cannot plead hunger a^ a motive, 
for the beast had just left the abundant pasturage of thepublic com- 
mon to trespass upon and destroy the property of my client. She is 
a widow— I mean my client, your Honor, not the cow. This is not 
a common case. It has no parallel in the annals of crime. Must 
the widow and the orphan suffer that men like the defendant there 
may allow cows of doubtful character to roam abroad ? I think 
not. Imagine the helpless, hopeless condition of despair into 
which my client is suddenly plunged. Her cucumbers must 
rot because there is no cider vinegar to make pickles. I see in 
mv mind's eye the bereaved widow and prattling orphans — 
{Wipes his eyes.) The court will excuse my weakness-— I see 
them sitting down to their frugal meal. No pungent pickles are 
on the table to whet the dull cold edge of appetite, and give zest 
to what is otherwise flat, stale, and unprofitable. The meal is 
sadly put away untasted, and the family suffer the dreadful 
pangs of hunger. No such vinegar as that destroyed can be ob- 
tained. That was made of Rambo apples, and Rambo apples are 
ao more in the widow's OTchard. (Wipes Ms eyes.) But I can 
pursue this harrowing subject no further. We must havejudg- 
ineut, and 1 will merely repeat our bill of claims. Firsts the 
^aliie of jhe pomace we place at ten dollars. (It was worth 
doable that.) The barrel was worth three dollars, the broken 
fence was damaged to the extent of two dollars. The cow in her 
hasty flight from the premises upset an ash hopper. Damage 
Sve dollars, making a total of twenty dollars, which your Honor 
should adjudge on defendant. {Seats himself,) . 

SpotUer. Your Honor, I have little to say. Our case needs im 




fO A LAWSUIT. 

bolstering nor the aid of oily sophistry. (Grows very eloquent.) 
It rests on the bed rock of eteraal justice, which is as eternal as 
the stars. We're not afraid of justice. 

Flight Yea ought to be. 

Squire. Order, gentlemen. 

8. I say we are not afraid of justice. My opponent judges 
my feelings by his own. A man who has been hiding from the 
constable oughtn't to talk about justice. 

F. (Jumps up.) You villain, what do you mean ? (Attempts 
to hurl an inkstand at S.., but the Squire catches his arm.) 

Squire. Gentlemen, I tell you I will have order if I have to 
fine you both. 

S. (Eloquently.) As I said, justice is bound to soar on high. 
She will sail aloft into the altitudinous depths of ethereal ex- 
pause, and seat herself majestically among the other virtues form- 
ing one of the brilliant galaxy of transcendental and incontrovert- 
ible benignities. 

Mrs. Snack. (Aloud,) Did you ever I 

S> She will soar — (Here 8. makes a grand gesture^ tut tTiS 
Squire cuts him short.) 

Squire. Mr. Spouter, stop right there. I don't understand 
Latin, nor anything but a little English. You have an offset. 
What is it? 

Spouter, (Meekly.) We claim that that cow got into the lot 
because the fence was down, and that her health was damaged to 
the extent of twenty- tive dollars, leaving a balance in our favor 
of five dollars, for which your Honor will please render judg- 
ment. (Very eloquently.) Why that cow never has been the 
same ever since ; her milk actually was sour like vinegar for sev- 
eral days. She actually 

Squire. That will do. The offset was all I wanted. I caP- 
clate I've about sifted this 'ere case. Mr. Evans, you m'l^et ^jay 
twenty-five cents for that pomace. I'll sell it for that V the 
hogshead. Each party must pay his own costs. I thin^J^ Uuw'a 
about square. 

Flight, Squire Block, I protest against this decision. 

Squire, It's no use. (Court u adjourned, Cwrtain,) 



THE LOST OPFORTUNiTIEa 



THE LOST OPPORTUNITIES. 



CHARACTERS. 

Amy Morton. 



LOTTISB ArLIITGTON, 

Kelue Horton, ' 
M-Ajay Wright, 



Mrs. Denver, a rich ladf^ 

Miss Spinner. 

" Bobbie," a poor litUe girl. 



SCENE I. 

A puhUe prommadSy Mrs. Denver seated. The girls urumare oj 
her presence are talking about an approaching .examinatiorij ck 
which the lucky candidate is to receive as a prize a valuable $ckol 
a/rship in an educatioruil institution, 

Nellie, Girls, are you ready for the examination? It begins 
at ten o'clock. 

Ixmise. I shall enter the examination only because Miss Spin 
ner wishes me too. My father is able to pay my way at school 
I care nothing for scholarships. 

Amy. I do care for them. Miss Spinner says she knows whc 
will gain the prine. It will be such an honor to go to Rockwefi 
Seminary as the scholar who stood highest among thirty or forQp 

Nellie. It will be an honor. 

Louise. Amy, may be you will not win the prize. 

Amy. Oh, but I must, Louise. Miss Spinner ought to know 
Hasn't she been our teacher for two years? She hinted to me 1 
would be the lucky one. 

Mary, Perhaps each one of the other girls has the same ex 
pectations. Of course Miss Spinner should encourage all of vub 
But she canH tell who is likely to win. 

Amy, ( With a sneer.) I know some who will not win. 

Mary, For my part I do not expect to pass the examination 
I am aware that I am not one of the best in the class. 

Amy. (Aside to Louise.) She has learned her place at last . 
{Aloud.) Mary, 'I didn't suppose that you thought you could pass 
that examination. Who do you think will get the prize ? 

Mary. I think Nellie Horton is one of the smartest scholarK 
In the clasa. She deserves to get it She needs it, toa 



T2 THE LOST OPPORTUNITIES. 

Louise. Yes, she needs it badly enon^li. But what is the use 
of poor people trying to rise so high above their station? 

Amy. Not a bit of use. But do you know that Itlrs. Denver, 
the lady who gives the scholarship, is very rich ? They say that 
the girl who stands highest in the examination will be heir'to all 
her property. 

Louise, That would be nice enough. But I think she is an 
old goose to go around examining girls. Why doesn't she pick 
out some nice stylish girl without worrying her with arithmetic 
and geography and spelling. {Nellie^ who has been sauntering ir, 
deep thought^ now returns.) 

Amy. That is just what I say. It is a regular nuisance. But 
then, these old humbugs who have plenty of money pmd no heirs, 
&re a curious set. You have to put up with their whims. 

Nellie. Amy, I think she must be a real nice old lady, or she 
would never offer such a splendid chance to any girl who is will- 
ing to try for it, 

Mary," How kind to give them a chance who have no means 
to educate themselves. 

Nellie, I wish I knew her so I could thank her for it. 
.Amy. Nellie Horton, I think you need not waste much time 
in thanking her for what you are not very likely to get- I think 
the teacher as good as knows already who will get the prize. 

Nellie. If you mean that Miss Spinner is going to be partial 
or unfair, you are mistaken. Bhe v/ill award the prize to who- 
ever wins it. 

Amy, That does not prevent her knowing beforehand who is 
very likely to pass best {Enter^ ^^ Bohhie^^ bouncing a hall on the 
ground.) Oh there's Bobbie, the little Tomboy. 

Bobbie. I'm not a Tomboy. You used to play with ball when 
you were little. 

Amy. Don't say that, you little brat I never did. 

Bobbie. Oh, you have! All girls do. 

Amy. Will you dare to contradict me? Pll box your ears for 
you. (StHkes at Bobbie, but she evades Amy) That is a beauti- 
ful costume you have. You would be a prize for the rag man. 

Mary. Amy, is it a disgrace to be poor? 

Amy. Well, it's next thing to it. Don't you say so Louise? 

Louise, Indeed, it is a disgrace. Ma always said so. I 
wouldn't talk to that vulgar little thing. See how dirty she is, 
and barefooted, too. Pah ! (" Bobbie " bounces her ball and it 
strikes Louise's dress.) She has spoiled my new dress with her 
muddy ball. 

Amy. You little wretch, I'll teach you to soil other people's 
clothes. {Seizes the ball and throws it away,) 

Bobbie, Oh, please don't, Miss Morton. I'm so sorry. (Bun^ 
off side to get the ball comes back crying.) It went into the wat^ 
and I can't get it " 

Nellie. That h too bad ! 




THE LOST OPPORTUNITIEa 7^ 

AMy, Let her behave herself then, 

Mary. Bobbie, I'll give you another ball to-morrow. Don't 

fs^-j. I have a good one at home. 

NelUt. Girls, it is only one hour till we must be in our seats. 
{Exeunt all the gtHs followed by Bohhie)^ 

'Mrs. Denver. (Rises and coTties forward.) Truly, this is a good 
opportunity to study human nature. I am very glad I took a 
walk this morning. These are the girls who seek to avail them- 
selves of my offer, I must know more of them. One of them 
is very sure of winning. I will try them farther. In an hour 
they pass here on their way to the academy building, I will try 
a little stratagem. 

Scene II. Same place as before, Mrs. Denver disguised as an 
apple woman. Enter troup of girls, 

Mrs. D. Young ladies, I have some choice fruit. Please buy 
of me and help a poor woman. 

Nellie. What beautiful apples I I have no money to spare 
ma'am, or I would buy some. 

Mary. Nellie, you must have a good lunch to-day, I will get 
some apples to eat with our sandwiches. (Buys some apples.) 

Mrs. D. And where be' all you girls a goin', if I may enquire? 

Nellie, There is an examination at the academy, and we are 
all going to compete for the prize. (Amy and Louise come up wrm 
in arm.) 

Mrs. D. What is the prize you speak of! I warrant it*s some- 
thing nice. 

Nellie. The prize is a scholarship. 

Mrs. D, What in the world is a scholarship t 

Amy. An old lady is going to send one of us young ladies to 
school five years free. Won't it be nice ? I think she is an old 
ninny for doing it 

Mn, D. Five years I Why, it must cost a heap. Ladies, will 
you buy some apples? 

Louise. Not to-day. Who cafes for apples ? 

Amy. Especially at a cent apiece. Old lady, if you expect to 
sell apples, yoo must not ask such a high price. It is nearly as 
bad as cheating. {Exeunt girls.) 

Mrs. D. I wonder if that rich old lady isnH a ninny I We 
shall see. 

Scene m.-SchooWooin in the Academy. The examination is 
over. Girls seated. PreseiU^ Miss Spinner, the teacher, and Mrs. 
Denver, 

Miss S. Mrs. Denver, the examination is now completed. You 
have heard a part of it. I have written the names of the young 
ladies in the order of their proficiency in the work assigneo 



U THE LOST OPPORTUinTIES. 

Mrs* D. i also have a list of the names in the order which 1 
think is a proper one. If you will pieaae read yours, I will coiDp 
pare it with mine and decide. 

Miss 8. The first name on my list is Miss Amy Morton. This 
is no surprise to me, for Miss Morton has always stood very high 
in her studies. She is an excellent pupil^ who will always excel 
in whatever she undertakes. 

Amp. {Asid4 to Louise.) i knew I would get it 

Mi88 8, The next name on the list is that of Miss Nellie Hor- 
ton. She is also" an excellent student, and a very good girL She 
has done her best, and can not feel that her failure is due to any 
fault of hers, I shall not read the entire list It is open lor in- 
spection. 

Mrs, D. As far as book knowledge is concerned, you are cor- 
rect in your judgment. Miss Spinner. I find that Miss Amy 
stands first, and Miss Nellie, second. But I reserved the privilege 
of conducting an examination in social etiquette, home duties and 
morals. I conducted that examination this morning on the pub- 
lie promenade while the young ladies were unconscious of my 
purpose, or presence. From that examination I find that Miss 
Morton ranks lowest of all the candidates. She has yet to learn 
that genius, however flattered and petted, can never achieve true 
success without sound moral principle. The young lady who 
will say things of the absent which she would blush to say in 
their presence, who will lightly insult old age and ill-treat the 
helpless, certainly lacks sound moral principles. My young 
friend, these things may be done thoughtlessly, but they will nev- 
ertheless destroy character. I am pleased to ajudge the prize to 
Miss Nellis Horton, one who is in «very way worthy of It 
(Gurtain,) 



4N ^FRIL FOOL 



AN APRIL FOOL 



CHAEACTSES. 



Ida, 

Ago IB, 



Dora, 

Fraxx, 

Dai^izl. 



Enter Daniii mih a lunch basket in hts Tiand. 

Daniel, As soon as I get a tin cup of water from the spring, 
I shall be ready for Innch. I'm dreadful hungry to-day. I hops 
the other boys will not come this way to play till I have finished 
my dinner. {8eU down his basket and starts for uater. Enter ira 
other hoys and girls from an opposite direction.) 

Frank. Now, we shall find out what Dan is up to. He need 
not think he can sneak off from us every day. 

Ida. I guess he has good things to eat, and is afraid some of 
us will ask him for some. 

Aggie. I don't believe he has anything good to eat 

Harry. If he did he wouldn't slip off to eat it. I'm not afraid 
to show my dinner. 

Frank, Nor I. He is ashamed of it 

Eunice* I am real sorry for him. I know his mother is very 
poor. 

Frank, What is the use of his bringing his dinner in a big 
basket then as if he had a bushel to eat? 

Bdle, I wouldn't give a cent for a dinner mussed up in your 
pocket 

Frarik. Humph I Well, you needn't But where did he go so 
soon? 

Aggie, There is his basket 

Harry. That is so. He is not far off. Look out Frank I may 
be he is only going to play April fool on us. 

Eunice, 1 wish he would, 

Frank, Just let us know if he does. Say, girls, I'm going to 
And out what he has to eat. 

BeUe. I think it's none of our business what he eats, 

Aggie, Pshaw! What is the difference? 

Belle, How would you like to have somebody rummage youi 
basket to know what you have to eat ? 



73 AM AFBlh FOOL, 

AggU. I don't hide myself to eat my dinner. Yon can all see 

aae eat my dinner. 

Harry, L€;t's see yon eat then. Eat, pretty creature, eat! 

Aggie. Do ©top, you mean thing I 

Frank. (Puts dawn his own basket) I'll soon reveal the mys- 
l^ ^y. (Opens BanieVs basket.) Well) if this isn't the richest 
thing yet Just look here girls! How is that Harry ? (UnrolU 
froraa riapkin a cold boiled potato. All set down their baskets and 
crowd a/round) Cold potato ! That is too rich a diet for a sta 
dent (All laugh) No wonder Dan stands around the stove sc 
much. He is thawing up the cold potato, yftidX i^ this? Well 
I declare, cold buckwheat flapjacks! {All la^ugh again) 

Earry. Better put them away into ^q basket Daniel will be 
back pretty soon. 

Frank. What do I care! I am not afraid of him. 

Eunice, You ought to be ashamed of yourself. 

Frank, {Laughs) You blush for me, Eunice, That will do 
as well. Look here 1 We'll play an April fool on him. I'll tell you 
just the thing. Harry, you mind these baskets. Don't let Dan 
have his if he comes. Tell him you sent it to tjie school-house 
or something. I will run over to Mr. Drew's and get their big 
cat. He is always under the stove, and it w^on't take a minute to 
pat him in here and tis dovm the lid. I'll be back soon. {Mutls 
ut) 

Belle, Girls, that is too bad! 

D'r>Ta. ( Wlw iio^ just covie in,) It was too bad your running 
off and leaving me. But what are you going to do? 

Harry, Going to play an April fool on Dan. Frank has gone 
for a cat to put into his dinner basket 

Dora, Won't that be fun ! 

Aggie, What will he say when he finds a cat for his dinner? ' 

Eunice, You shan't do it It isn't right If the poor fellow 
hasn't much to eat, he can't help it. It would be a better joke to 
fill his basket with something good ! 

Belle, That's so. I will give part of my dinner. 

Dora, So will I. 

Ida. So will I. It will be a better joke than to put that hate 
ful old cat in there to spoil what he has. 

Harry. See here, girls! We will put some dinner into Dan*s 
basket and then put Frank's basket here in place of it They 
look just alike, so we shall get the- April fool on Frank. 

Aggie, Wouldn't it be-fun to play the joke on Frank. 

Harry, {Takes up DanieVu basket) Here girls, put in ftome- 
ihing, fill it up. 

Eunice Here are some sandwiches I 

DotOh There is a piece of pie! 

Ida. I'll give him my apples, I donH care for thenu 

Aggi4. I wonder if he likes boiled eggs! I'll gire him mine. 



AN APRIL FOOL. 



f? 



ffarrp, I bet he does, if he hasii*t forgot how they taate. 

B^Me. Here is all of my cake, he is welcome to it 

Ba/rry, Why, girls, you have put in so much nice stuff I am _ 
most ashamed of mine. I haven't anything but bread and butter 
and meat. I guess this will satisfy an appetite, though. (ffol<U 
up two enormous slices of bread stuck together with butter.^ Mother 
says it isn't any use to" try to upset my appetite with cake and 
fixings. I guess she knows, too. ISTow, we will set this down and 
hide to see what Dan does. Hurry! there he comes. (All run off.) 

Daniel. I had no idea I was staying at the spring so long. 
(Takes up his basket.) "Why what is this? I've brought the basket 
of somebody else. No, this is mine! It is All Fool's Day, and 
somebody has played me a trick. (Looks at the things.) I see it 
now. They have found me out, and wish me to have one good 
dinner. Here are apples, the very kind Ida brings. Bless her ! 
And here are boiled eggs and cake and pie. The girls have done 
this. No, here are slices of bread and butter so big that nobody 
but Harry would ever have brought them. How kind! I wish 
I could thank everyone of them. My poor invalid sister shall 
have that piece of pie, and an apple, and some cake. How she 
will like them. I'll never forget this kindness, if I can't repay it 

Harry. (Approaches^) Pshaw I Dan, it was an April fool. 

Dan. Bo you did it, Harry ? Thank yon, I will never forget 
your kindness. 

Harry. Nonsense. I didnH do it! Don't blame it on me. 
The girls did it But come! I want to tell you something. 
Hurry up, too. I don't wish Frank to see us. (They pass off. 
Enter Frank with abig cat.) 

Frank. Where can they all have gone, I must hurrj% or Dan 
will be here. (Puts the" cat into his own basket in his Juiste.) 
Yonder they come, and Dan is with them. Won't he be mad 
when he finds that cat? {Others enter.) Have you all eaten your 
dinners ? Where did vou go to-day, Dan ? 

Harry. We were down at the spring. We havn't had our 
dinners yet. (All laugh.) 

Frank, (LaugJis heartily.) That is funny lan't it You don't 
gee the point, do you Dan ? 

DanieL I haven't seen anything to laugh at. (AU laugh again, 
Frank laughs boisterously.) 

Frank. Look in your basket (Laughs) 

Daniel. Oh, I saw that ! 

Frank. Oh, you saw it, did you ? Pretty good wasn't it f 

Daniel. First rate. 

Frank. Well, you take a joke very coolly, I must say. (Laughs 
again.) I guess you haven't opened your basket laXely. 

Belle. Have you opened yours lately, Frank ? 

Frank. Ko, Belle, but I shall at once. (Laoks far Mi basket 
confusedly.) See here, where is my basket! 

Blunici. There it 1*1 



^/8 jlLWays too late, 

Frank, {Jerks up his basket, and the cnt jumps &nt.) That*s 

what I call pretty mean to change baskets that way. {All laugh,) 
There is all my chicken eaten up, and cat tracks in my pumpkin 
pie. {Angrily.) it's mean as can be! (All shout ''April fool,'' 
and 'run out.) I guess I am April fooled pretty badly this time, 
I might have known better than to leave my basket here. {Exit,) 



ALWAYS TOO LATK 



CHARACTKES. 



George, 

^ n.T.THL 



LOTTIBL 

Bkktbul 



SCENE L 

Bo^s and girU waiting for George. 

Henry, John, are you sure that you told George we were lo 
meet here at eight o'clock ? 

John, Yes, I am sure of it, Henry. And what is more, I told 
him we would start a few minutes past eight. I knew if I said 
half-past eight he would not get here until nine. 

Millie, He will not be here in time. He never is. 

Lottie. . {Impatiently) "What is the use of anybody's being so 
slow. If he kept nobody but himself waiting it wouldn't make 
anv difference. 

i^enry. If he is too late we can ^o off and leave him. 

Jennie. That would hardly be fair. 

Bertha. Jennie, would you wait here for him till we missed 
the train ? 

Jennie, We could take the half-past nine express and get there 
In plenty time. 

Millie. I shall not consent to that If we are going at all let*g 
go when we agreed to, and George may follow whenever he 
pleases. 

John, I guess he will be here this time promptly. I gave 
him such a talking to that he said he would not keep us waiting 
a minute. 

MiUi^ Last time when we went to a pic-nic George kept us 



ALWAYS TOO LATE TQ 

^i^itiiiff till we missed the train I know we shall miss it this 
time. I don't like such things a bit, 

Lottie, Girls, don't scold poor George too much. You know 
he is & capital good fellow. See there I Yonder he comes. 

Henry, Too late, though ! (Looks at Ms watch,) It is a quar- 
ter to nme. 

George. Here I am ! On time, I guess, too ! 

John. George, you are just a quarter of an hour late. 

George. Pshaw", John, I knew you were just trying to hurry 
me up. What is the use of so much hurry and worry. I take 
the world easy. I took my time to my breakfast 

Millie^ And kept all of us waiting I 

George, Millie, there is plenty of time. The train doesn't 
start until nine. 

Berth/i. But we have to go back past the school to get our 
lunch basket8 and things. 

Ge&rge. {L-augM.) That is where I am ahead. I have every- 
thing ready. (Looks at his things) I declare I forgot my foot 
ball. I shall have to go back for it 

Henry. There I I knew you wouldn't be ready» 

George^ (Running off,) Oh, I shall be back here as soon as 
you are. I will meet you here in good time. 

Millie. I know George will miss that, train, and so shall we if 
we do not hurry, (Exeunt all) 

Scene II. Same plaice a$ before. EfUer a ragged big boy as a 
tramp. 

Tramp, Hello I that youngster left his basket of provisions. I 
guess I am the chap what can take keer o' this stuff. This is 
what I call lucky. It's all packed ready for a picnic. I'll have 
a little picnic. [Walks off with the basket. Enter boys and girls.) 

Henry, George isn't here yet. 

Lottie. Of course he isn't. He is taking his time, as usual. 

Bertha. We can't wait another minute. 

Jennie, Why^ his basket is gone from that bench. He hnB 
gone ahead. 

" John. Then, let's go. We must hurry. It is nearly train 
time. (Exeunt. Enter George after a few moments in great haste 
and breathless.) 

George, Here I am ! ahead of them, after all. (Sits down a 
moment.) It is curious they haven't come. (Paces rourod,) I 
wonder if they could have gone. (Looks around,) My basket 
is not here. They have taken it with them, I guess. (Listens.) 
I hear the train. There is the whistle. Pll have to run across 
lots. (Bans out. Gomes back carrying his basket empty,) Here 
is my empty basket, and that miserable old tramp has my din- 
ner. Now I lose mj' holiday, I can't take the next train without 
being laughed out of countenance. This comes of always heing 
too Ute. (Ouriain.) 



80 S0AHDINA?1A, 



SCANDINAVIA. 



4 OHABADB IN FOUB SCSHSS 



OHABACTSBB. 
4 TBkCWSB ASD PUPILS^ A DTEB, A BOGUB, Ain> A eSBKAB* 

SCENE I. 

BehooUroom^ teacher and pupili. 

Teaeh&r. Marv, what does prosody treat of? 

Ma/ry, Prosody treats of poetry and the different Mnds oJ 
verse, 

TeaclieT^ Very good ! John, name some of the different kind* 
of poetry, 

John, Didactic, lyric and epic. 

Teacher^ Susan, what is meant by feet in poetry? 

Susan. A foot is one of the parts into which a rerse may be 
divided. 

Teacher, Give an example. 

Susan, Maud Muller oc a summer's day 

Raked the meadow sweet with hay. 

Teacher, That is an example of poetry^ out I wished yoo to 
give an example of feet 

S.iisan, I don*t believe I can. 

Teacher. Can you give an illustration, George? 

Oeo^-ge, No, sir 1 

Tea-ch&F^ Can any one ? {A pa/tiseJ) What were we to learn 
feo^ay? 

Mary, We were to review kinds of poetry, and learn to scan. 

Teacher. Tliat^s it We were to learn to scan. If I were to 
separate a verse of poetry into the feet which compose it, wh&t 
would I do, class ? 

Cla^s, You would «ca» it 

Teachm'. Now, Susan, please scan the lines you gave as an 
ezampla 

Susan, Maud Mul-ler on~a sum-mer's day, 
Raked~the mead-ow sweet-with hay. 

Teacher, Mary, what kind of feet are those ? 

Mmrg* lamMe. The second syllable is acceated. 



SOAJTOINAVIA. 81 

Teacher, George, please scan the same lines. (George repeais 
the linee,) John you may scan the lines assigned you. 
" I feel like one who treads alone, 
Some banquet hall deserted." 

John, ' I feel-like one-who treads-alone, , 
Some ban-quet hall-desert-ed. 
(Stops suddenly at the last 9f liable.) I don*t know what to do 
with the tedy. 

Te<icher. Mary! 

Mary. I didn't know what to do with the ted. 

Teacher. Can any one tell what to do with the ed^ not the tea 1 
(No aTuwer.) You will notice that this poem contains double 
rhymes. The unaccented syllable at the end of the line really is 
not considered at alL as its influence is so slight To-morrow^ 
we will scan three stanzas of the'* Burial of Sir John Moore," and 
two of the " May Queen." It is a nice thing to be able to icon. 
Class excused; {Exeunt all,) 

Scene II. A dyeing establishmerU, Mrs, Scour and Mr, Seedy, 

Seedy. Mrs. Scour, is my coat in the dye yet ? 

Mrs. S. Mr. Seedy, I'll try to have that coat done to-morrow, 
sure. 

Seedy, Don't yon disappoint me this time, Mrs, Scour. I 
must have that coat (Conjidentially.) You see there is to be a 
big party to-morrow night, and a fellow must look as trim as pos- 
sible when he ifi going with his girl. «If you fail, I'm a ruined 
man. 

Mrs. S. I'll do my very best, Mr. Seedy. But there's a dreadftil 
Bight of work in the dye these hard times. Nearly everybody has 
something in the dye. 

Seedy. And if I don*t get that coat, I might as well die toa 

Mrs. S, (TakiTig up a vest,) Mr. Seedy, there i& a west that is a 
west 

Seedy. Is that so ? 

Mrs. S, That is glnulno welwet Thai co«« twen^ dollara, if 
it cost a cent 

Seedy. Does that go into the dye too ! 

Mrs. S. (Laughs.) Bless you, no I That is to be overhauled 
and cleaned. The idea of puttin* a twenty-dollar west into the 
dye. (Laughs.) 

Seedy. Better things than thai die every day. (Exit Seedy, 
Curtain.) 

Scene IIL Two men disputing o'oer an acemmt. 

Smith, Mr. Williams, you have charged bm with things I 
never got 

WiUiams. Mr. Smith th&S bill is cc^reet II was copied di 
rec^y &om my books 



83 SCANDINAVIA, 

Smith, I care nothing for ^our books. Here are items I neref 

got For instance, one cheese, one pitchfork. 

Williams, My clerk says you got theuL 

Smith. Your clerk is a cheating knave. 

Williams. What is that sir ? 

Smith, I said your clerk is a kruwe. 

Williams. You shall pay for this sir. The biU and the Insult, 
too. 

/Smith. Pshaw! Williams, I don't care the snapping of my 
finger for you or your clerk, or your partner either. I'd like to 
see you make me pay for things I never got. 

Williams. I'll sue you. Do you dare to accuse our house of 
dishonesty ? 

Smith, Yes, and will prove it if you wish me to do so. All I 
have to say is, that there is dishonesty somewhere. Possibly, I 
did injustice to your clerk when I insinuated he was a Aj;kM>«. 
May be you yourself are the knave. 

Williams, (Very angry.) Isikna/vel Oh, this is too much! 
A ILnave, (Follows Smith out. Curtain.) 

Scene IV. An American and a German. They meet 

Am, Hello, Dutchy I Where are you going? 

Ger. Yal 

Am. Taf 

G&r. Ya! 

Am. What are you go^g to do when yon get there f 

Ger, Yal 

Am. What is your name! 

G&r, Yal (Grins.) 

Am. Yaf 

Ger. Ya! I speaks none English. 

Am. Oh, you speaks none English! 

Ger, (Nods and grins) Ya! 

Am. Well, yaw away. 

Ger, Nein\ (Pronounced nine.) Yaf Nein English! (^rtJM.) 

Am, Are you an Italian ? 

Ger. Ya! 

Am. Are you a Bohemian? 

G&r, Ya! Sprecks nein English ! 

Am. I begin to suspect your English \% nine English, Are 
you a Dutchman ? 

G&r, (Nods.) Yal 

Am. Are you a Swede ? 

G^, (Grtns.) Ya! Ich bin, Ich Wnl Yal 

Am. Are you a Scandinavian? 

Gtr, Ya! 

Am. See here old chap, if you don't stop pawing ytm wHl get 
your mouth open bo wide that somebody will take it for a coal 

ihafl (Exeunt, Ourtain,) 



C^RATEFUL. 83 



GRATEFUL 



4 CHABABH I3f TffSKE SCmTES, OlfTH SCEKB FOB ItAOH STLLABLl 



sczys I. 
^ ftx?^ gratiTig nutmegt. Enter Mutress, 

Mistress, Pattie, have you put the pies to bake! 

Fattie, Yes'in. They're baking nicely. 

Mistress. What are you doing now? 

Pattie. Grating nutmeg for the pudding. 

Mistress, Pattie, you are doing that awkwardly. Let me shoyf 
you how. (Takes the grater.) Hold the grater up this way and 
then you can Bprinkle the nutmeg evenly. Now try it You 
must leam to grate. 

Pattie, (Takes the grater.) I think I ought to know how to 
grate properly. My last missus kept me grating horseradish half 
the time. Laws a' me if they didn't eat horseradish enough to 
set a wood-pile afire. It was nothing but grate^ graU^ grate^ till 
my arms fairly ached. 

^Mistress. That may be, Pattie. Still, I see you hare not 
learned to use the grater properly, 

Pattie, This is exactly the way yon did it, Missus. 

Mistress, Yes, that will do very well, Pattie, But get your 
pudding into the stove as soon as possible. It is almost dinner 
time. (ExeurU at side with the pudding. Curtain.) 

BcENB IL A drunken man and some hoys, Johr^ Henry ^ (md 
Ike, The m/in staggers across the stage followed by the bo^s, 
John. Say, old fellow, what is the matter ? 
Man, *S nothing matter. I'm tired 'a can be 
Henry, Sit down, then, and take a rest 
Man, Looky here, boys, can't y'elp a feller «l'owa an' tem 

Ik6, You're sick, aren^ you ? 

Man, No, I'm not sick. Bovs. c^w* bert (Miof^^en*) I 
want to tell you aometlun'— -teH somet^i* ' 



84 aRATJEFUL. 

Jofm, Toners pretty/^t^ 

Man. Vm no fool, i tell ye. Bee here! Boys, I'm goin* to 
ran for C!oagres». 

Henry. You are XoofuU to run. 

MaTi. W&nt you fellers all to vote for me while I*m numin*. 

John. Where did you get your .whisky? I say, you're /uZ^ 
old chap. 

Man. FuU! What's that! Wish I was full. (Boys all 
kmgh. They go ovi and he staggers after*) 

SoKKB III. A poor old woman seated on a box begging. People 

pass and refuse alms. - 

Begga/r. {To a young man pauing.) Please, sir, will you help 
a poor old woman ? 

Young man. No t Botheration ! I have no time to waste on 
beggars. 

Beggar. (To young lady.) Please, Miss, help a poor old 
woman. I am unable to work. Only a penny will help me! 
(Young lady passes on saying nothing.) 

Beggar. I shall starve yet, I fear ! Oh, what a cold, heartless 
world this is. One who has never known want cannot realize its 
hoUoTJ^ess. I once little thought I should come to this. (Ent^r 
a lady.) 

Lady. What is the matter, good woman ? 

Begga/r. I am starving and unable to work. I have appealed 
in vai^ for help — nobody believes my story. 

Lady. Tell me your troubles. 

Begga/r. I am alone without friends, and very poor. This 
summer I have been unable to work, and now I have nothing to 
eat, and no fuel. 

Ixidy. You have seen prosperity, I know. 

Begga/r. Once I was voung, beautiful, and admired. (Bitterly.) 
Then I had friends. Husband, children, and fortune have all 
gone. 

Lddy. Poor old woman! Your condition is sad, indeed. 
Here is some money. (Hands Tier a bill.) 

Begga/r. Bless you, madam 1 I thank you a thousand times. 
(Bows lowly.) I shall never forget your kindness. 

Lady. It is a small matter. I have only done my duty. (Aside.) 
She seems very gratrful. 

Beggar. I cannot tell you how grateful I am. You are so 
good and kind to a poor, helpless old woman. Thank you, 
madam. (Bxit ladp. Ourtain^) 



iGmTILLiLT& 



85 



SCINTILLATR 



CHAKADS IK F0T7B SC:m3!?ES; OKS SCS273 FOB SAOR flTLLABXJI, 
ASD ONE FOB THE EKTIBB WOBD, 



SCENE L 

Two hoyt eating jam from aja/r, 

Dick. Bill, this jam is tip-top, isn*t it! 

Bill You're right, it is, ^ 

Dick. I had to look pretty sharp to get it. Mother keeps ths 
cupboard door locked and carries the key in her pocket 

Bill How did yon get the key? 

Dick. She changed dresses when she went over to Mra. 
Drake's to tea, and left the key at home. 

Bill Dick, do vou think it is right to steal Jam? 

Dick. Why, I clon't steal it It belongs to mother. 

Bill My mother says it is a $in, 

Dick, Oh, I guess it is a nin, but that's all. A sin isn't much. 

Bill Mother says we'll have to pay for every sin we do. 

Dick. Well, aren't we going to pay for it, Bill ! It makes me 
lick as can be every time 1 eat it Oh! I hear the gate opening! 
I must put this away befor« mother ^ets back. 

Bill Dick, if jrour mothtsr finds it out don't you deny it, for 
that would be lying, and lying is a n^ too. 

Dick, Pshaw! Ali you can talk about is «r». (ExeuM. 
Curtain.) ' 

Scene II. A &naU shop, fruity eonfectionery, etc. A table for a 
c&iinter. Adra/^joer in the table ierves for the m/msy till Shop- 
keep^ reading tlie paper, B<^ behind the counter. Enter m 
cueto-mer, 

Ouetomer. How do you sell your apples! 

Boy. Three for five! 

Cuetomer^ Have you any maple sugar ? 

Shopkeeper, (Locking up.) A splendid arUcle. Eight from 



SCTNTILLATB. 

man iK)me of that maple sngar ? Be lively. {Bop produce$ eatn 

0/ sugar.) 

Customer. What is the price of this sugar ! 

8hopkeep0r. Fifteen cents per pound, and you hare the gean^ 
Ine article. 

Customer, I will take two pounds. 

SJwpkeeper, John, wrap up two pounds of sugar. 

Boy» Yes, sir. {Puts up the tuga/r) 

Customer. Can you change a five ? 

Boy. {To shopkeeper.) rlease let me have change for this 
bill. 

Shopkeeper, Look in the till. I put plenty of change there 
this morning. When you want change always go to the till for 
it. If you donH keep any money in it, what is the use of having 
a till. {Opens the drawer^ Here, put your one^s in this apartment 
vour two's in this, and the change in- its proper place. You must 
learn what a till is for, {Curtain.) 

ScEJOG IIL A young lady and Tier lover, A late hour of the 

night, 

Lucy, {Yawns), What did you say, George ? 

George, I said I didn't enjoy the ball. 

Lucy. Oh, it was stupid. Let's not say anything more 
about it, 

George. {Yawns) It was a trifle stupid. 

Lucy. {Sleepily) I am glad the season for parties is about 
over. 

Georgs. {Who has been Tialf asleep^ starts) 1 beg pardon, 
Lucy 1 What did you say ? 

Lucy. {Laughs) Aha I you were almost asleep, George. 

George. Oh, no, I wasn't. (Yawns) I was only thinking. 
{Looks at his watch) Why it is nearly twelve. It is getting lots. 

Lucy. Twelve is not late. 

George. Miss Lucy, I must say, notwithstanding your opinion, 
that twelve is getting late. 

Lucy. I say it is not getting late at twelve. 

George, Very well, I will say then that it t* late at twelve. 

Lucy. George, I should say it was getting early, 

George. Why, how do you make that out ? 

Lucy. You see it is getting toward onCy and one Is considered 
early in the morning. 

G'eorge. Ah I 80 it is. I shall go before it is early. Gk>od 
night! {Exit Curtain) 

ScKOi lY. Fowr boys playing cards — very late howr, 

Tom. Boys, Vye had enough '^of euchre, I move we quit 
Jame$. Wo, we must play the rubber. 
fVM. Jtanes, do you know how late it iflf 



SCINTILLATB. 87 

Janne%, No ! Do yon ? 

WiiL I think the town clock struck eleven last time. We've 
played three or four games since then. 

Tom. We had better quit now. 

Jam6», Pshaw I You are afraid, Tom. 

To'm, No, I'm not afraid I It isn't any use to be afraid now. 
Tou know all four of us will catch a thrashing if your father and 
mine find this out 

James, Your conscience smites you, does it ? 

Tom, I can't say but that it does. Father and mother say 
it is wrong to play cards at all, and when we slip into your room 
through the window and play when your father and mother do 
not know it, I guess it is wrong. 

Fred. That is what I say. 

Ja/mes,^ Fred, stop right offl If yon tell, and we get a whip. 
ping, you'will get another one. Mind that 

Fred, Who said I was going to tell ? 

Will. I don't see much harm in cards, Tom. 

Tom. I don't, either, but then our parents have forbidden it, 
and that makes it wrong, maybe. I don't know, but I think it is 
a sin. 

James. Oh, of course it is a dreadful sin. {Laughs.) 

Tom. Anyway it is very late, and I am going home. Hark I 
There, the clock is striking twelve, (Sound of dock in th€ 
distance.) 

Jam^. Well, Tom, if we are sinners we iin early tmd late, 
especially late. {Ijmght, Exeunt tUL) 



INTENSITf 



INTENSITY. 



A, <mABiDB m FOUB SCEKaaiu 



•CEKS L 

An Inn, EfUer a trailer wM orders supper and lodgings. 

Tra^el&r, (Enters carrying saddle bags and wraps.) Can 1 
lind something to eat here and lodgings for the night? 

Host. That you can, and of the best. The " Red Lion *' has a 
reputation second to none in the country. (Takes the stranger's 
things.) 

Traveler. It is deuced pleasant to find lodgings and a warm 
Are on such an evening as this. 

Host. Have you traveled far ? 

Traveler. I have been riding all day and am chilled to the 
marrow. Inns are scarce I see in this section of the country. 

Host They are. Since Robinson's old stand closed this is 
the only Inn within fifteen miles. 

Traveler. Has my horse been taken care of? 

Host The hostler will be here in a moment, sir. John I 

JohTi. (Outside.) Aye sir 1 I'm coming. 

Ho8t> Then come along. Take this gentleraan*s horse and 
put him in the stable. What do you wish him to have, sir ? 

Traveler. A peck of good clean oats. Rub him down well. 
Mind my horse must have as good care as I receive. 

JoJm. Aye sir ! I will attend to it 

Traveler. Now landlord, please order my supper. I am hun- 
gry as a wolf. I will have a chicken nicely roasted, potatoes 
browned, hot biscuits and coflfee. 

Host All right, sir. Now step this way and make yourself 
comfortable by the fire. You will find last week'g papers on the 
table. (Exit hostfoUowed by Traveler.) 

ScKKE II. Host and traveler. 

Tramler. (Pacing ba>ck and fortTk) This is a very comfortable 
sort of a place after all. It is much better th&n I expected Id 
tiai miserabk countzj. (ErUer Host.) 



If 



OrrSNSITY, 9 

Host How do you find yourself now? 

Traveler. Splendid 1 That fixe of yours thawed me out In the 
dhortest kind of notice. If your viands are as good, I shall al- 
ways recommend your house, 

H08L My what? 

Traveler. Your viands! Your eatables. 

Eo8t. Well, they are. I keep the best of everything. 

Traveler. I think wood must be very cheap in this country, 
jadgiDg by the fires you keep. 

Host, It is so plenty we don*t know how to get rid of it. 1 
see in last week^s paper that an eastern man talks of starting a 
big saw-mill hera It will pay. 

Tra/celer, You see it in the paper did you t 

Host, Yes, I see it in last week's paper. 

Traveler, You mean you 8a/w it 

Host Well, what la the difference ? Sometimes I say «ea, and 
aometimes se^n. 

Traveler, Both are wrong. It should be %a/w. 

Host. I don't see that it makes any difference in these parts 
what a man says. 

Traveler. You had the tense wrong. That is all. 

HosU Tense I What is that ? I never saw one. 

TraA)el&r, Did your teachers never tell you that you must never 
use see for soajd f 

Host, {Laughs heartily,) I guess not, stranger. They didnH 
know it themselves. You must have a fine education. 

Traveler, Oh, yes ; I studied grammar several terms. 

Host. Grammar! 'Humph! People never heard of grammar 
where I went to school. ISo grammar fixes up your — what-do-you- 
call-'ems.doesit? 

Traveler. Yes, it keeps the modes and tenses all right 

Host. Well, I'm real glad you told me, but I guess my tenses 
are so badly out of joint nothing short of an earthquake could 
itraighten them. {Both laugh.) 

Tra/celer, I'm getting hungry. I wonder if that chicken is 
icarly roasted ? 

Host, I think it is pretty nigh done. The cook will call yc;i 
when it is ready. That chicken reminds me of something. Let 
me show you a big egg one of our hens laid last week. It is a 
regular whopper. I'm a judge of chickens if I don't knowany^ 
thmg about your — whatdo-you-cail-it ? 

Traveler, Teme! {Exeunt.) 

ScEKB III. Traveler and hostler. This scene represent VU vowM 
of the third syllable, but not its sound. 

Trawler. John^ have you made my horse comfortable? 

John. Aye. sir. 

Tra^ider. Jfohii^ why do you say aye, instead of j^f 



90 mTBNSITY. 

/Mn. Aye Is a very good sort of word. 

TrmeUr* Quite true \ But you must have some reason foi 
using it You don*t look like a foreigner, and If you had been a 
sailor yoa would say, aye, aye^ sir. 

John. No, I am not a foreigner, nor a sailor, but my mother was 
a Scotchman. 

Traveler, No! You TSkQ&3i% Scotchwoman. 

John, Aye sir, I do. But what is the difference? Arent they 
all, men ana women, Scotchmen ? 

Traveler. Oh, no ! a Scotchman, means a Scotch man^ 

John, Then a female Scotchman, is a Scotch uxyman. 

Traveler, (LaugJis.) Exactly! John, I wish you would run 
in and ask 'the cook if my supper is nearly ready. Tell her I 
can not wait much longer, 

John, Aye sir. {Exit.) 

Traveler, In the mean time I must toast my shins a litUe more. 
(UxU, Curtain^) 

Scene IV. Traveler pacing the floor. Enter Twst 

Tra/celer Landlord, how long does it take to roast a chicken in 
this country? 

Ilost, Not long, stranger, not long. Your meal is nearly 
ready. (Enter cook.) Here is the cook now. 

Tra/oeler. Cook, is tea nearly ready ? 

Cook, Tea I Why, you ordered coftee, and I have made yon 
the nicest cup of coffee you ever drank. 

Traveler, (Laughs.) That is all right, Polly. When I said 
tea, I meant supper. 

Cook, (Laughs.) Sir, that is the first time I ever heard any. 
body call supper, tea. 

Host Stranger, I guess from your speech, you wasn*t brought 
up in this country. City chap, may be ? 

Tra/veler, Yes, you've guessed it 

Cook, Well, I never I The idea, of calling supper, tO€k But I 
came to tell you supper is ready. 

Tramler, That is the best news I've heard for some time I 
dosit cdre whether joa ^11 it supper, or <^a^ (ExiL On/rtain.) 



WroCKABIL 



STOCKADE. 



4 OHASADB I» THREE SCENES, ONE SCENE FOB EACH fSIULASLS^ 
AND ONE FOB THE ENTIKB WOBIX 



SCENE L 

Bro<sik» and» Walters. Two capitalists talking of investmmts. 
Brooks^ office. Desk and chairs. 

Walters. Mr. Brooks, my opinion is that that Western Union 
stock is the best thing in the market just now. 

Brooks, Walters, I think you are mistaken. The Goosetown 
and Bramble River Improvement Company affords the best 
chance for investment ever offered. 

Walters. ~ I hardly think so. The Bulldozer Mining Stock is 
ahead of the Goosetown and Bramble River Improvement 
Company. 

Brooks. You are wrong, Walters. Why, just think of the 
Goosetown scheme. Capital stock is $10,000,000. It is on the 
market at three cents on the dollar. It is bound to soar. Goose- 
town will be incorporated as Auburndale just as soon as the bill 
can be put through the Legislature. Auburndale will be our 
finest suburb. It is bound to soar. 

Walters. Have you bought any of the stock ? 

Brooks. I should say I had. I've bought 5,000 shares. Ill 
make $50,000 out of it. (Enter Mr. Hastings.) 

Brooks. Good day, Mr. Hastings. 

Hastings. How are you, Mr, Brooks I Good morning, Mr. 
Walters. 

Walters. Good morning. We were just talking about inyest 
ment in stock. 

Hastings. Yon will miss it Real estate is the thing. 

Walters. That is precisely where you are in error. There ii 
nothing like stocks for making money. 

Hastings. GiTe me real estate and you m^y hare all the stock 
rofu want 



^2 STOCKAJDB, 

Brooks, Step into my private office dll I show you some 
dgures. I have struck a splendid investment I need about 
|5,000 more to carry the thing through, though. 

Eastings. I don't mind trying it if you can convince me. 

Brooks. CJome along, gentlemen. I have some gilt-edged 
stock, and if I can't easily convince you that stock is the thing to 
make money out of, then I'm a Dutchman, (Bxeuni M.) 
Scene II, Brooks* office. Mr. B. writing <U Ms desk. Stops and 

soliloquizes. 

Brooks, I am afraid I have dipped a little too deep into 
speculation. If those Bulldoser stocks go much lower I am 
ruined. What made me take such risks, i must go to the wall 
unless my friends consent to aid me. {Knocking at the door.) 
Come in ! {Enter Mrs, Marker,) 

Brooks, Good morning, Mils. Harker. How are you this 
morning? 

Mrt, H> Oh, I am in trouble again, I don't know what I 
shall do» 

Brooks, Very sorry, Mrs. Harker! What is it? 

Mrs, H, That man who hajS a mortgage on my furniture says 
he will sell everything to-morrow unless 1 pay his bill 

Brooks, Can't you get him to wait? 

Mr$» E, Mr. Brooks, I've staved off that matter till nothing 
more can be done except to pay the bill. He says he has waited 
too long already. 

Brooks, What do you propose to do ? 

Mrs. E, I have come to you for aid. 

Brooks, {Aside) To me, who cannot aid myself. {Aloud.) 
How much 18 the bill ? 

Mrs, E, Fifty dollars. I have come to you because you have 
always been kind to me. I knew you would not refuse aid to 
me, whom you have always known. 

Brooks, {Aside.) I need money badly, but I suppose fifty 
dollars makes little difference with me. (Writes check) Here is 
a check for the amount 

Mrs, E, Thank you, Mr. Brooks, I hope I may be able to 
pay you next month. 

Brooks, All right {Exit Mrs. E.) I have reached the point 
where fifty dollars makes little difference with me. {Enter lady.) 
What can I do for you, madam ? 

Lady. I represent the aid society. Our object is to assist the 
worthy poor. I have called to solicit your subscription to its 
support 

Brooks, I am not prepared to sign to-day. 

iKidy, It is a wortny and well-conducted charity. 

Brooks, I can give nothing to^ay. 

Lady, The socieQr reli^ largely on business men* for itt 
support 



&TOCKADK m 

Br06k$. Madam. I am very sorry to refuse aid to your worthy 
* t I ' 



I. 

^^^ Lady, 1 am very sorry you cannot assist us. Good mom. 
ing, sir. 
Brook$, Good morning, madam. (Exit lady. Curtain,) 

ScEisra III. 8maU boys playing $oldier. Capture of t?ie .stockade. 
A structure mads like palings ma^ be placed across the stage to 
represent thefortijication. One pa/rty is intrenched behind it, th€ 
other attempts the capture, 

1st Captain, Now, boys, get ready for the charge. If we can 
only capture that stockaae the way is open to the enemy's camp. 
It is their camp we are after. It is a great honor to sleep in the 
enemy's camp. {Camp is emphasized to distract attention from thi 
word stockade) 

2nd Captain. Now, boys, we must conquer or die. If they 
ever take that stockade all is lost Nothing can save the camp. 
Be steady. Wait till you see the whites of their eyes. 

1st Captain, All ready ! CXarge, {They rush up and try to get 
oner the stockade^ but are repulsed^ and retreat to form again,) 

2nd Captain, The day is ours \ (His side cheer.) 

1st Captain. On to yictoiy I {TTiey rush up and drive t?he othdf 
part^from the ttockadfi, aohd mti &i the 0ther tide with cheerB,) 



. THE DIALOGUES FROM THIS TO THE END OF THE 
BOOK ARE BY VARIOUS AUTHORS, 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 



CHARACTERS. 



Frank Wood. 
Harry Manson. 
Emma Wood. 



Laura Burns. 
Annie Logan„ 
Ella Seaton. 



Clara Jones. 



m 



A. PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT 



ScKNE.^ — A Parlor, Characters aU discovered. 

Harry. Now that we are all here, what shall we do? 

Laura. Let us play charadei. 

Annte. Or proverbs. 

Ella, I vote for proverbs. 

Frank. I have a suggestion to make. Let us resolve our- 
selves into a literary or debating society, and let us have speeches 
and recitations; or, if the young ladies here present would prefer, 
let us have a debate on the woman question. 

Emma. Oh, Frank can't think or talk about anything but 
speeches and debates. 

Clara. I'm in favor of the speeches. Yes, let us have a real 
literary society to-night in this room. Wouldn't it be splendid? 

Harry. I cion't think it would be very splendid for a young 
man in my position. I don't know a single speech, and as for 
debating, I couldn't say six and a half words on any question. 

Laura. Oh, you don't know what you can do until you try. It 
may be that you can make a powerful speech when you are thor- 
oughly aroused, 

Harry. Does the young lady mean to say that I am not 
thoroughly aroused at all times and on all occasions? Does the 
young lady believe that I go through this world with my eyes 
shut? Does the young lady think that I am a piece of stupidity? 
Does — does — 

Frank, As Shakspeare says, " I pause for a reply.*' 

Laura. Oh, no I he paused because he couldn't say anything 
more. 

Ella. Or because he ran out of interrogation points. 

Annie. If Harry can't debate, and has no speech that he can 
: eak, I would suggest that we elect him president 

Harry. That will suit me exactly. I always had a desire to be 
"sident, but I had no idea that I would so soon be elected to 

at honorable position. 

Laura. I'm opposed to that The gentler sex is in the major- 
ity here, and I firmly believe that one of our number should tit 
in the presidential chair. 

Harry. Ah I yes, the young lady has aspirations that way her-^ 
«el£. 

Laura. No, sir! I have no desire to be president of this 
meeting. I simply say that as the girls are in the majority here, 
one of their number should be elected to the office of (B^sident 



96 A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

It leema to me that some people think that boys arc qualified tot 
any office and are capable of filling any position. If a president 
Is to be elected, they say, "elect a boy;" if a responsible posiiion 
is to be filled they say " fill it with a boy.'^ The girls have to stand 
back — they never have a fair show — they are, in a manner, tram- 
pled upon and kept down. 

Harry. (Aside.) Whew I what a talker! Wouldn't the be a 
fine speaker for the woman's rights platform? 

Ella. We havn*t yet decided that we . will have a literary so- 
ciety, and if we donH have a literary society we will not need a 
president. 

Clara^ I move that we have a literary society. 

Ella. I second the motion. 

Harry. All those in favor of the motion will please 

Laura. {Interrupting him.) You're not president All those 
in favor of the motion 

Harry. {Arising.) Hello I Stop! Halt! Didn*t some one 
suggest my name for president? And nobody suggested the 
name of Laura Burns. Then doesn't it devolve upon me to put 
the motion? Or, in other words, doesn't it devolve upon me to 
act as president until a president has been duly elected? 

Laura. Absurd! 

Ella. Ridiculous! 

Frank. What are we going to do about it? 

Clara. I move that Laura Burns be elected president. 

Harry. President of what? We have not decided to have a 
meeting, and if we should not have a meeting what do we want 
a president for? 

Clara. Now, Harry, don't get up a fuss about nothing. 

Harry. About noticing I Isn't this a matter of importance? 
isn't it a matter of great importance? When the history of this 
night shall be written, shall it be said that we transacted the bus- 
iness of this meeting in an illegal manner? Shall coming gen- 
erations blush and feel curflummuxed and catterwampussed be- 
cause the boys and girls here present wee ignorant of parliamen- 
tary law, and knew not how to organize a literary society ? Oh, my 
beloved young friends, let us proceed caretully; let us do nothing 
that we shall be ashamed of when we are gone to join the major- 
ity, and other boys and girls are filling our places and organizing 
literary societies; let us do nothing to cause the blush of shame 
to overspread the faces of our sons and daughters when they read 
on the pages of history the proceedings of this eventful night I 
feel that I have said enough. {Seats himself.) 

Frank. I feel that way too. 

Clara. I renew mj^ 'motion. I move that Laura Bums be 
elected president of this meeting. 

Ella. I second the motion. 

Clara. Without further delay I will put the motion. 

Harry. (Rises^ seemingly very much exciied) Put tne motion I 
Don^tt do&l:! I beg of you don't put the motion. If it mutt b« 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 97 

?ut, let it put itself. Don't have anything to do with that motion, 
t is out of order. It is a ridiculous rnoiion. Don't you know 
that it is entirely wrong and most aboiiiinably out of order to put 
a motion ot that kind? We have not even decided tliat we will 
have a literary meeting for the purpose of showing each other 
how smart we are in the way of making speeches. Then when 
we have not decided that w^e will have s,uch a meeting, how can 
we elect a president? Let us proceed calmly and carefully; let 
us do nothing rashly; let us act with the understanding that we 
are making history, and that — 

Gar a. {Interrupting him.) All those in favor of the motion 
will please say aye, {All vote aye except Harry.) Those opposed 
will say no. 

Harry. {Speaking bo7}ihasticaUy.) 1 vote no! How could I do 
otherwise? " I have but one lamp by w^hich my feet are guided, 
and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way ot judging 
ol the future but by the past, and, judging by the past," let me 
ask, what will the world say when it hears of the transactions ol 
this night? What will coming generations say when they read 
that a number of boys and girls, seemingly intelligent and re- 
spectable, met in Mr, Wood's parlor and elected a president with- 
out having a meeting for that president to preside over? Oh, 
fellow citizens of the feminine gender, and one fellow citizen of 
the masculine gender, I blush for you all. {Seats himself,) 

Clara. Miss Laura Burns has been elected president. She 
will please occupy the chair. {Takes Laura by the hand andleads 
her to the chair.) 

Laura. Gentlemen and ladies,. you will please come to order, 
and we will proceed to business. 

Harry, {Rising.) I rise for the purpose c^" asking a question. 

Laura. Ihe gentleman has asked too many questions already, 
but we will hear him; proceed Mr. Manson, and ask your ques- 
tion. 

Harry, What are we going to do to-night? 

Laura. We are going to have some literary performances. 
The first performance will be an extemporaneous speech by Har- 
ry Manson. 

Harry. {Rising) I'm amazed! Fm dumfounded ! Here I have 
been protesting against the manner in which you proposed to 
transact business to-night, and yet you have gone forward regard- 
less of my warnings and entreaties. You have elected a presi- 
dent without seeming to know whether we were to ha\-e literary 
performances, or whether we were to have a nice little time play- 
ing charades. You have gone on recklessly — you have given no 
heed to mv warnings, and now you have added— I might almost 
say — yes, I will altogether sav, you have added insult to injury 
by placing my name first on the list of performers. What shall I 
do? 

Annie, Proceed with your speech. 

Laura, Yes, proceed with your extemporaneout speech; I am 



^J8 A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

President and I command you to proceed with jour speech. 

Harry. {Bows to Laura) Yes, Ma'am, I will proceed with nu 
ipeech; I am always willing to obey the powers that be. {To iht 
others, ) But, ladies and gentlemen, I — I— I — don't know what to 
say. (Pauses as if in thought.) Mr. President; it is natural lor 
man to indulge in the illusions of hope; we are apt to shut our 
eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren 
till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part ot wise nicr. 
engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we 
disposed — 

Laura. {Interrupting him.) Mr. Manson will please speak an 
extemporaneous speech, and not a declamation. 

Harry ^ Yes, Miss President, I will endeavor to do so. Fel 
low citizens ana the young ladies who are seated before me or. 
this occasion : I have come out for the purpose of talking to you ; 
I have come out for the purpose of making an extemporaneous 
speech, but you will see before I have proceeded y^ry far that 1 
am a poor talker. Ladies, it is my firm belief that the boys and 
girls, and the men and women of the present day who do so much 
talking, do not amount to anything. Some great man has said 
that ** Still waters run deep," and I believe it is true. When you 
see a man going straight ahead and attending to his business you 
may be sure that that man am.ounts to something; but, if on the 
other hand, you see a man who is always talking and telling what 
he has done and what he can do, you may feel pretty sure that 
that man doesn't amount to a hill of beans. Ladies and gentle- 
men, or rather girls and boy, don't depend on the men v/ho are 
always talking. 

Girls and boy, I suppose some of you have seen young ladies 
who try to do all the talking. I do not admire such ladies; I do 
not love them. A lady of this kind when at a party will talk to 
this gentleman, and to that gentleman, and to the other gentleman, 
and keep up a fuss and a buzz and do a great deal of laughing, 
and yet all she says amounts to nothing. She will attract a gopd 
deal of attention and the young men will flutter around her, but 
no sensible man will think of marrying her. Ah! a man who 
would marry such a woman would lead a wretched life; he would 
find that she could talk better than she could make bread and pies 
and apple dumplings ; he would find that she could converse and 
make a fuss and a buzz better than she could keep house, and he 
would conclude that a smooth, easy, gliding talker was a good 
thing to have at a party, but she didn't amount to anything when 
it came down to the stern reality of keeping house. 

If a man should come home for his dinner and find the table 
spread and nothing on it but knives and forks and plates, and it 
that man 's wife should sit down and give him some smooth, easy 
talk, say for fifteen minutes, and then rise up and tell him that 
that was ail the dinner he would get that day, how do you gup- 
pose that man would feel about it? Would he pick his teeth and 
ieei £« If he had got a good square meal? I guess not It is more 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. ^^ 

reasonable to suppose that the man would rise up and strike the 
wife of his bosom a fearful blow with the roUing pin or any other 
article of domestic warfare he might find lying around. 

Now, my young fellow citizen, when you get old enough you 
can go and marry a talking girl if you want to, but if you get into 
trouble and get nothing to eat, and the house isn't kepi clean, 
and the cobwebs are left swinging, you can't say I didn ^ give 
you fair warning. 

And, fellow girls, I have a word to say to you. You tan all 
go and marry men who loaf around stores and taverns and do a 
great deal of talking, but when you are married a year or t^vo and 
there is no meat nor coffee nor bread nor butter provided for you 
to live upon, and you have no money to ''buy the child a frock," 
you can't say that I didn 't raise my warning voice and tell you 
to bcvjiu-e! 

One word to a wise man is as good a.s a hundred to a lot of 
fools. {^Harry seats himself.) 

Emma, A remarkable speech. 

Atniie. Wonderful! Wonderful! 

Ella. And yet this is the boy who said he couldn't speak. 

Laura, A boy never know s what he can do until he tiies. 

Harry. Very true; very true; nor a girl either. 

Laura. But w^e must proceed. The next performance will be 
a recitation by Frank Wood. 

Frank. Oh, don't call for my performance now. Let us have 
variety. We have had a speech by a boy, now let us have a 
speech by a girl; or, I might say, we have had a very good speech 
from a boj^ now let us have a very poor speech trom a girl. 

Emma. Box his ears. 

Clara. Does the boy think that because we are girls we can't 
speak good speeches? We'll show differently when our time 
comes. 

Ella* Does the boy think that all the intelligence of the society 
is confined to the male portion of it? 

Annie. Miserable boy. 

Emma. Box his ears. 

Laura. Order! Mr. Wood will proceed with his speech. 

Frank. [Rising.) I bow to the will of our fair President 
Bo-ivs to the girls and commences to speak,) 



AN AWFUL BLUNDERBUSS.* 

In Wagontown there lived a girl who had a Roman nose; 

Her mouth was small, her teeth were white, her cheeks were like 

the rose. 
Her father's name was Benson Hall, and hers was Sarah Jane; 
They had a house and kept a store at forty Maiden Lane. 

*F?oaa •* Monro *» Girls andJBoy* of AaeKaics." 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

Miss Sarah Jane had seven beaux, and s-lightly liked them ail, 
But five of them were much disHked by Mr. Benson Hall. 
He often said to Sarah Jane, "I Hke both Brown and Ray, 
But then those other pumpkin heads had better keep away. 

"Don't let them come a courting here, Tm sure 'twill never do, 
To have so many chaps around a gallivanting you. 
I hate the Smiths, the Cobbs, the Grays, I hate Melancthon Topp, 
And worse than all 1 hate your beau, whose name is John Mc- 
Flopp. 

" But you may spark young Mr. Ray, and Peter Franklin Brown, 

For they're as good as any men we have about the town. 

And they are men of common sense, they've got some money too, 

So mind, I tell you, Sarah Jane, be careful what you do." 

Then Sarah Jane put on a frown, and looked most tearing cross; 
Said she: " I'll marry John, I will — I'll show you I am boss; 
[ do not care for Smith, nor Cobb, nor Gray, nor Mr. Topp, 
But you may bet I '11 marry yet, that splendid man, McFlopp. 

•^ 1 love McFlopp because he's tall, and wears a big moustache. 
Because he's highfalutin like, and cuts a mighty dash. 
I could not marry Smith nor Cobb, I could not marry Gray, 
I 'd rather load my pistol up, and blow my brains away." 

Then Mr. Hall he frowned a frown, he jumped, aud tore, and 

sw^ore ; 
He kicked the dog and slammed the cat against the kitchen door. 
Ke said he 'd straighten things around and make an awful fuss, 
And then he went into the house and got his blunderbuss. 

He loaded up his awful gun, with powder, stones and lead, 

And said he 'd pop young John McFlopp a blizzard tiirough the 

head. 
He said he'd take most careful aim, and shoot him in his tracks. 
And send him fluting through the air away to Halifax. 

And Sarah Jane, with tearful eye, got out her pis-ti-ol, 
And into it she crammed down, some powder and a ball. 
She also got an awful knife, which had a ragged edge, 
And bought a pick, a maul, an axe, a pop-gun and a sledge. 

Said she: ** I guess I 'm ready now to strike for truth and right; 
I think I 'm armed sufficiently to make an awful fight 
1 11 tear the rafters from the house, I *11 split the gable end, 
For if I know myself at all, my John I will defend. 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 101 

[••Of course I'd hate to shoot mj pa, and see him fail kerwhop, 
[But it would be mv duty to it he should kill McFlnpp." 
^ And then the lovely Sarah Jane got out some dough and things, 
;, And pared some apples with a knife to make some dump-i-lings. 

While thus engaged, McFiopp came in, and kissed his Sarah Jane; 
I Said he: "I sorter calculate we'll have a little rain; 
l;,But get your bonnet and your shawl, I '11 take you right away, 
i And we'll be married tight and fast this pleasant summer day." 

V* Oh gracious, John! you 've flustered me! and here 's my dump- 

i-lings; 
'How can I leave my apples here, and all my dough and things?" 
" Oh, blast the dough !" said John McFlopp, " put on your bonnet 

quick! 
Or that old dad of yours may come and slash us with a stick." 

" Oh, no, dear John, he's out of town, so do not be alarmeu, 

We 've ample time, I 'm glad you 've come, and you shall noi be 

harmed. 
I 've got a knife with ragged edge, a pick, a sledge, a maul ; 
^^ And then I 've got another thing, an awful pisti-ol." 

HP Then Sarah Jane rolled up her dough and pitched it o'er the 
fence, 
And straightway got in readiness for her departure thence. 
She gathered up her arms of war, all ready for a fuss, 
And then she took a nail and spiked her dad 's old blunderbuss. 

They turned their backs on Wagontown, and swiltiy sped away. 
Until they reached a minister 's on Copper Kettle Bay; 
He tied them fast, for which McFlopp an X did flop him down, 
And then they turned immediately to go to Wagontown. 

But on the road hey saw a sight which chilled them to the toes, 
It made them feel curflumuxed like, and sorter like they 'd froze. 
For right before them, firm and straight, stood Mr. Benson Hall, 
And they could see that he was bound to conquer or to fall. 

'* Halt ! halt I" he cried, *' I '11 shoot you both, I *11 show you what U* 

to pay, 
I 'U charge upon you with my gun, and blow you both away." 
He aimed his gun and oflfit went, with a terrific roar, 
And John was sent among the clouds some fifty miles or more. 

He lodged upon a dogwood limb upon a ragged cloud, 
And Sarah Jane tore round awhile and then she rried aloud: 
** Qh, John has gone, and I '11 go too, for I have lost my all, 
Bot first I 'U shoot my wicked pa, with my old pis-ti-oL" 



lOS A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

Her father turned his gun around and let the trigger fty, 
And straight he went a whizzing up into the cloudy sky- 
** Oh, what an awful pa he was!" said tearful Sarah Jane; 
"I wonder if they'll tumble down when it begins to rain." 

A thought now struck this widowed bride, she hushed her mourn- 

fui bawl; 
" I 'li shoot myself with that big gun, and drop my pis-ti-ol; 
I '11 whiz myself up to the clouds, and I may find IMcFlopp." 
And so she shot, and up she went a ivhizzle chunk ker-iv/ioJ>. 

And now, my friends, I Ve told you all about this awful gun, 
And how they all were shot aloft, and went a whiz-zi-un. 
I 've said my say, and hope you '11 all keep clear of such a tuss, 
And that you Ui not get shot aloft with such a blunderbuss, 

Frank seats himself. 

Ella. A terrible tragedy. 

An?ite, A touching story and a sad ending! 

Harry. Miss President: I move that we pause for two minutes 
and a half, and weep lor Mr. Benson Hall, Miss Sarah Jane Hall 
and Mr. John McFlopp» " If you have tears prepare to shed 
them now.'* And if you have no tears run for a few onions. 

Frank. We have no time to weep now. We want to hear the 
performances of the girls. 

Harry, Oh, they can't speak. Let us adjourn. 

Emma, Box his ears. 

Laura. Which of the young ladies will speak first? 

Harry. Don't all speak at once. 

Clara. I am ready to speak if you are ready to hear. {Clara 
xites. 

THE THREE FISHERS. 

** Three fishers went sailing out into the west — 

Out into the west as the sun went down; 
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best. 

And the children stood watching them out of the town: 
For men must work and women must weep, 
And there's little to earn, and many to keep, 

Though the harbor-bar be moaning. 

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower, 

And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down; 

They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower, 
And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown : 

But men must work and women must weep, 

Though storms be sudden and waters deep, 
And the harbor-bar be moaning. 



A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

Three corpses lie out on the shining sands, 

In the morning gleam, as the tide goes down, 

And the women are weeping and wringing tlieir han4s^ 
For those who will never come home to the town. 

For men must work, and women must weep, 

And the sooner it *s over the sooner to sleep, 
And good-bj to the bar and its moaning." 

Laura. A very creditable perforrnance. Now who will speak 
next? 

Emma. I have thought that we might now have a dialogue. 

Annie, A dialogue! How could we, when we have nothing 
of that kind prepared? 

Emma. Let us make it up as we go along. 

Ella, Splendid! splendid! That*s just the idea! I never 
thought of such a thing before. Won 't it be funny? 

Clara. But what can we talk about? What kind of characters 
will we represent? 

Annie. Let the President decide that matter. 

Harry. I 'm afraid it will be a bungled up affair. 

Emma. Yes, Miss President, we will give the matter into your 
hands. 

Laura, The idea is a new one and it may seem somewhat dif- 
ficult to undertake it, yet we do not give up at trifles. The boys 
have spoken their piece, and we must not fail to give perform- 
ances of some kind. If you wish to leave the matter to me, 1 
would suggest that we represent five old ladies at a sewing cir- 
cle. 

Emma and Annie, {Clapping their hands.) That't iti that's it! 

Ella. Splendid! 

Clara. Magnificent 

Harry. {To Frank,) If the the old women arp going to com- 
mence to gossip I guess we had better retire, 

Laura. {To Harry.) No, we will need you here. You may 
occupy the chair, as I am going to take part in the dialogue. 

Harry. Elevated to the Presidency at last! Happy man! 
(Laura rises and Harry seats Jiimself in Iter chair.) Now, if you 
old women become disorderly I will show you that I am 
clothed with authority. {Speaks commandingly.) Order! order! 
Proceed to business! You old women, go to work on that dia- 
logue ; we have no time to spare. 

Emma. Oh, what a President. 

Frank. I fear we shall have to impeach him. 

Harry. Don't be alarmed, I just wanted to see how severe J 
could be in a case of emergency. You may proceed with your 
arrangements now and I will look on smilingly and cornpla- 
cently. I don 't wonder that so many people want to be Presi- 
dent of the United States. It makes me feel pretty good to be 
president of thfs little meeting. 

Laura, {Seats herself.) We are a.\- sated, and now we will cmLm- 



104 A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

mence to sew and to talk about our neighbors. Emma will be a 
widow named Prudence Peppergrass, Annie will be another 
widow named Florence Furbelow, and EUa, Clara and I will be 
old maids named Jane Hamilton, Tabitha Primrose and Jemima 
Stokes. Alter we have talked awhile Frank, who will represent 
a widower nam.ed Daniel Davenport, will come in. Now we will 
commence. {Tliey all take up garments as if to engage in serving^ 
and l^AVKA speaks as JKMiMK.) La, sakes ! do jou suppose Pd 
hev anything to do with that old widderer.? Wall, now, I wouldn't 
I hain t in sich a big hurry about gittin' married as all that 
amounts to. Jest to tell the truth about the matter, I'm a heap 
better ofT as I am. Married folks allers hev a heap of trouble, 
and they git worrited about things which don't trouble single 
people, nohow. No, I'm jist goin' to remain single fur awhile; 
at least, I ain't goin' to be m no great hurry about marryin' Dan- 
iel Davenport. 

Emma. {As Prudence Peppergrass ) And I ain't either. 
I 'spose I could hev had Dan'el half a dozen times if I hadn't jist 
put him otTand commenced to talk about somethin' else. He has 
come purty nigh to the p'int seven or eight times, but I couldn't 
jist make up my mind that I ought to hev him, and so I turned 
the conversation into other channels. I allers did dispise them 
women which would allow a man to come to the p'int and ax the 
important question, when they had no idee of acceptin' that said 
man. I think it is outrageously and abominably wrong; and it is 
contrary to the teachin's of the Holy Bible, and also of the Apoc- 
rypha. 

Annie. Yes, that's jist so. I hev had several men come and 
be upon the p'int of layin' their heart's best devotions down at 
my feet, so to speak, but I hev allers managed to evade the ques- 
tion, except in one instance, and that was When my dear depart- 
ed, Franklin Furbelow, axed me to be his guidin star and sail 
withliim adown the stream of time on his fragile bark. I wasn't 
jist sure that Franklin was approchin' the p'int at that time, but 
even if I had been aware of the fact I would hev allowed him to 
perceed, fur I had jist about made up my mind that I would hev 
him. He was a kind man; yes, Franklin was a kind man, but he 
was dreadful hard on his clothes. Often and often would I hev 
to sit up and burn the midnight oil a patchin his coats and panta- 
loons. But he is gone now, and I don't want to cast any reflec- 
tions upon his doin's. Franklin has been lyin' 'neath the clods of 
the valley fur nigh onto five years, yet I cannot entirely make up 
my mind whether it would be proper or not fur me to be j'ined 
again in the silken tie A lone woman with four children on her 
hands has a good deal of diflikilty in gettin' through this vale of 
tears, and I sometimes think that perhaps it would be better fur 
me to seek out a strong arm to lean upon, as I travel down the 
hill slope of life. As the poet says: 

"I've paced much this weary mortal round, 
And sage experience bids me this declare. 



A Parlor entertainment, tos 

If heaven a draugnt of neaveniy pleasure share. 

One cordial in this melancholy v?le, 

*Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, 

In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, 

Beneath the milk white thorn that scents the evening gal^ 

Another poet says: 

** I 'd rather lean upon a breast 

Responsive to my own, 
Than sit pavilioned gori^eously 

Upon a royal throne." 

Ella, (As Jane Hafiiilton.) Well, indeed, I never think of sich 
a thing as enterin' the state of matrimony. I hev a strong arm 
of my own, an' I don't want anybody's arm to lean upon. I kin 
walk' right straight ahead, an' I don't want to be bothered with 
any man which belongs to the male sect. I hev a higher and no- 
bler purpose in view than gittin' married. I hev in view the en- 
franchisement of our sex. Shall we go on in this abject and down 
trodden manner? Shall we go on and never, never have the 
right of suffrage, while all around us ignorant and besotted men 
are marchin' up to the North and the South polls and depositing 
their votes? (Becomes excited^ rises and throws dow?i her sezvtng-.) 
I say never! never! Don't we know, more than the male sect 
from beginnin' to end? Yes, we do. And the men sect can go 
to the aforesaid North and South polls and deposit their votes, 
while we hev to bow down our necks and be crushed into the dust 
by the iron heel of despotism. (Elevates her voice>\ I say it is 
time fur us to arouse. It is time fur us to awake. We must cast 
aside our sewdn' and everything else, and we must strike boldly 
fur our rights. If we can't git our rights in any other way, I go 
in fur rizin' up and seizin' the torts and the arsenels, and gatherin' 
together the pistols and the cannons and the shot-guns and sich 
things, and then what? Then, fellow country women, let us fight; 
yes, let us fight. Let us march bravely out to the battle-field, and 
let us wade in gore to the tops of our boots if the necessity of the 
case demands it. We hev bin bamboozled about long enough. At 
I said before, we hev bin crushed into the dust bv the iron heel of 
despotism, and we must rise in our might — we must stand with 
shoulder-blade to shoulder-blade, and we must fight (Seats her- 
self and takes up her sezving.) 

Harty, (Aside.) If that old lady does n*t make long stitches 
now, I'm much mistaken. 

Clara. (As Tabitha Pri7nrose.) Wall, some of you talks about 
gittin' married, and some of you talks about woman suffrage, but 
I don't care nothing about none of them things. I hev other sub- 
jects to think on, and i don't bother myself about gittin* a vote or 
gittin' a husband, either. I don't want either of them. I'm a 
powerful sight better off as I am. But I hain't got no kind of 



106 A :'AJlLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 

hCRlth; oh, no, I hj int got no health at all. One day I am down 
with a bad cold in nij head, and the next daj I hev the rheumatiz 
in my arms, and th n just as like as not the next day I will hev 
neuralgia., and that 'i the way it goes, and I hev no rest at all. It 
keeps me all the t'^me huntin' yarbs and makin' medicines and 
mixin' poultices, an-i I hain't no time to think about anything else. 
Sometimes I think it would he better (ur me jist to die and hev it 
over. I can't eit down to read or my head will-'git to achin\ and 
I can't sit down to s 3w or the rheumatiz will git to dartin* through 
my limbs, and I can't do nothin'. Oh, I'm a dreadfully afflicted 
person. What would I talk about gittin married fur? And what 
need I care about woman suffrage.? The women hain't got no 
right to vote; they*d better stay at home, and not bother them- 
selves about politics. But then there's allers some women that 
must be meddlin' thi^mselves about things that don't consarn them. 
{Lays do-wii her sewing,) I don't believe I can sew any more this 
evenin'. The rheumatiz is botherin' me, and my head is gittin' 
sort of unsteady, and I guess I'll git up and go home. 

Frank, {As Daniel Davenport^ comes forixjard.) Good evenin', 
ladies; good evenin'. I spoze it's about goin' hum time. {To 
Ella.) Miss HamiKon, shall I hev the pleasure of esquartin' you 
hum to-night? 

Ella. Oh, certainly, Mr. Davenport, and I shall feel highly 
honored* 

Laura, (jRistn^,) Mr. Davenport, don't hev nothin' to do with 
chat old gal. She was abusin' the male sect afore you come in. 

Emma. No, Mr. Davenport, don't hev nothin' to do with her. 
She 's a regular old tiger. 

Ella, {Advancing with uplifted hand.) What \ that you say? 

Frank. I guess I Vi better run. It begins to look squally. 

Annie. No, Mr. Davenport, don't hev nothin' to do with her. 
She's a woman's righther, and she hates the men. I need a strong 
ai m to lean upon, and if you — 

Ella, I'm aroused now. {To Emma.) Do you say I'm a tiger? 
( 7 -> Annie) Do you say I hate the men? Now, then, for ven- 
geance! {Raises both atms as if to clutch Emma and Annie by the 
hail of their heads. 

Harry. {Coming Jorixard,) From present appearances I should 
sav that it would be better to bring this dialogue to a close, 

Emma and Ella. Oh, we're only in fun! 

Annie, I believe Harry is frightened. 

{All the girls laugh,, Harry stands in C, and the girls and Frank 
at ench side, forming a senn-circle.) 

Harry. No, not frightened, but it is time to end the dialogue 
and the quarrel, and ( To audience) to thank the audience for theii 
kind attention to our littii* sketch, A Parlor Entertainmiint. 

{All bow CIS ike curtain falls.) 



LESSONS IX COOKERY. 



107 



LESSONS IN COOKERY. 



CHABACTEBS. 



Cicely Jones, 
Mrs. Jones, 
Bridget, 



An Exquisite Young Lady. 
Her Mamma. 
The Cook, 



Scene. — A 'kitchen. Cicely icears chintz apron prettily trimmed 
with hows of rihhon, a Dolly Varden cap and kid-gloves. 

Cicely. Mamma, please introduce me to your assistant. 

3Irs. J. Bridget, this is your young lady, Miss Cicely, 
who wants to learn the name and use of everything in the 
kitchen, and how to make coeoanut rusks and angels' food, 
before she goes to housekeeping for herself. 

Bridget I'll throy. (Exit Mrs. J.) 

Cicely. And now, Bridget dear, tell me e^ei'y thing. You 
see, I don't know anything, except what they did at school; 
and isn't, this old kitchen lovely? What makes this ceiling 
such a beautiful bronze color, Bridget? 

Bridijet. Shmoke, and me ould eyes are put out with that 
same. 

Cicely. Shmoke — I must remember that, and, Bridget, 
what are those shiny things en the wall? 

Bridget. Kivers? — tin kivers for pots and kittles. 

Cicely. Kivers? — oh, yes; I must look for the derivation 
of that word. Bridget, what are those round things in the 
basket? 

Bridget. Praties I (for the Lord's sake where hez ye lived 
niver to hear of praties?) Vv^hy, tliim's the i^rincipal mate 
of Ireland, where I kim from. 

Cicely. Oh! but we have corrupted the name into potatoes; 
such a shame not to keep the idiom of a language ! Bridget — 
do you mind if I call you Biddie? It is more euphonious, 
and modernizes the old classic appellation. Y/hat is this 
liquid in the pan here? 

Bridget. Och, murder! Where wuz ye raised? That's 
millick, fresh from the cow. 

Cicely. Millick? That is the vernacular, I suppose, of 
milk; and that thick, yellow coating? 

Bridget. Is crame! (Lord, such ignorance!) 



108 



LESSOKS IN COOKERY. 



Cicely. Crame! Now, Biddie dear, I must get to work 
I.m going- to make a cake all out of my own head for Henry — 
he's my lover, Biddie — to eat when he comes to-night. 

Bridget {aside.) It's dead he is, sure, if he ates it! 

Cicely. I've got it all down here, Biddie, on my tablet: A 
pound of butter, twenty eggs, tv/o pounds of sugar, salt to 
your taste. No, that's a mistake. Oh, here it is! Nov/, 
Biddie, the eggs first. It says to beat them well; bat won't 
that break the shells? 

Bridget. Well, I'd break thim this time if I were you, 
Miss Cicelj^; they might not set well on Mr. Henry's stum- 
mack if ye didn't. 

Cicely. Oh! I suppose the shells are used separately. 
There! I've broken all of the eg'gs into the flour. I don't 
think 111 use the shells, Biddie; give them to some poor 
people. Now, what next? Oh, I'm so tired! Isn't house- 
work dreadful hard? But I'm glad I've learned to make 
cake. Now, what shall I do next, Biddie? 

Bridget. Excuse me, Miss Cicely, but you might give it 
to the pigs. It's meself can't see any other use for it (crustily). 

Cicely. Pigs! O Biddie! you don't mean to say tliat you 
have some dear, cunning little white pigs! Oh, do bring 
the little darlings in and let me feed them! I'm just dying 
to have one for a pet! I sav/ some canton-flannel ones once 
at a fair, and they were too awfully sweet for anything. 
{Iiu7is out. ) 



THE TRAVELER. 109 



THE TRAVELER. 



CIIABACTERS. 

Mr. Lawton, An Mderly Gentleman. 

Joseph, Ills Son, 

Albert, A Conceited Youth. 

Scene, — Joseph seated alone. 

Joseph. I wish Albert would wake up; I have waited three 
hours to see him, and I am all impatience to hear of his 
travels, and welcome him as our guest. 

Enter Albert, yawning; seeing Joseph, he tries to conceal the 
yaicn, and assumes a sprightly air. 

J. Ah, Albert, so you are awake at last! 

A. Awake! Who said I slept? 

/. Your servant! 

A, Oh, yes! To tell the truth, when I retire to my room 
for contemplation and study, I let the servants think it is to 
sleep, in order to avoid interruption. 

/. Then you v^^ere not asleep? 

A. Not a momentc 

/. Yet your shutters w^ere closed. 

A, They always are when I study. I cannot concentrate 
my attention upon anything serious in a glare of light. I 
acquired the habit in Italy. The heat there is so oppressive 
that the rooms are kept quite dark. 

/. Indeed! 

A. My whim of writing by candlelight was well known 
both at Rome and Naples; nay, even grev/ proverbial; for by 
way of describing a studied work ]~>eople used to say it was 
certainly done by candlelight. My discourse on science, on 
being admitted into the Academy, made this joke fashionable. 

/. Yet if I had knov\m you were not in bed I should have 
interrupted your studies. 

A, In bed! I am no sleeper! I have an antipathy for 
sleep; it is a state of stupor and moral death, when every, 
faculty of the soul is suspended. I never sleep more than 
three hours out of the twenty-four. 



110 THE TRAYELER. 

/. Indeed! 

A. When shall 5-0U travel, Joseph? 

/. I have no taste for traveling. 

A. How childish! Come, I will take you with me next 
year. 

/. You go again so soon? 

A. Oh, I cannot suffer such talents as mine to rust at 
home. I propose to go first to Russia. I meditate writing a 
^voi•k upon the rapid progress of the Russians in arts and 
policy. Afterward I shall take Denmark and Sweden. 

/. Do you expect to write a work upon Russia in a year? 

A. Oh, in a month. My powers of composition are tre- 
mendous! tremendous, I assure you.' They sometimes sur- 
prise myself. Da you love natural history? I dote upon It. 

J. I confess that I have not yet made it a study. At six- 
teen, Albert, I scarcely aspire to any separate branches. 

A. Oh, the driest, most difficult studies are mere play to 
me. I learn whatever I please without trouble or application. 

/. At sixteen! This is wonderful! 

A. So they said abroad. At Rome, it was related of me 
that in one evening I had solved a problem, written an im- 
promptu poem, maintained a long argument upon politics, 
danced ten country dances, and translated a long passage 
from Dante into French. 

/. What passage of Dante did you translate? 

A. Why — the— hem — it has slipped my memory, but it 
was the most difficult in the whole poem, chosen on purpose 
to puzzle me. You shall see it. 

/. I hear my father's voice — he comes to welcome you 
home. Will you dine with us? 

A. Thank' yo'^5 I will. Must you go? 

J. I have an engagement. {Aside, going out.) In another 
moment I should have laughed in his face. {He goes out.) 

A. 1 have astonished him; now to petrify his father. 

Enter Mr. Lawton. 

A. {affecting not to see him, examines the inctures). Oh! this 
head is surely after Raphael! 

Mr. L. No, it is after my great-grandmother. 

A. Excuse me! I did not hear you. 

Mr. L. Welcome to Pineville, my boy. Though we shall 
not let you lie abed all day after this! You were fatigued 
with your journey — — 

A. I 

Mr. L. Not a word! I forgive you. So you like the 
pictures? 

A, There is a tolerable freedom of hand in that portrait, 
and the chiaro oscuro in this landscape is very fair. 



THE TRAVELER. HI 

Mr. L. {aside). The coxcomb! 

A. Is nofc this a copy of Salvator Rosa? 

Mi\ L. No. It i3 an original John Jones, and a good 
picture of my sister. (Aside) ■ His brain is turned. 

A. I looked at your garden from my window this morn- 
ing; the site is extremely good, and the view in the wooded 
part is extremely picturesque. The rising sun sheds masses 
of light upon the walks that had a wondeilully brilliant 
elTect. Oh, but you should see Switzerland, where beauty 
is united to severity! Nature is mystic and awful in Italy 
and Switzerland; but it is a kind of beauty (if I may venture 
so to express myself), the rugged austerity of which ap- 
proaches to hardness; here, nature is less sublime, but more 
simple and touchiDg. 

My, L. {aside). What a pack of stuff! 

A. {aside). He is confounded already. 

3Ir. L. [aside). Let me see how far he will go. [Aloud.) 
Indeed, Alfred, you amaze me with your eloquence. Ail 
you have found means to introduce, in saying my garden vvas 
pretty — - 

A. Arose from my passionate love of nature. The sigbt 
of a fine landscape affects me in an extraordinary manner. 
What joy did I taste upon the Apennines! Those lofcy 
mountains, larded with rocks and surrounded by precipices; 
that aspect, noble and untamed, exalted my imagination; 
every idea became expanded, elevated, till, hurried on by 
an irresistible enthusiasm, I forsook my carriage, meditated, 
sketched and composed verses. 

Mr. L, (aside). So! He is a poet, too! 

A, What a clime is Italy for Ji lively, speculative mind! I 
received an impression not to be described on reflecting that 
I was in the land of Cicero, Virgil and Horace! And Rome — 
Rome! What rapture did I feel on entering Rome! 

Mr. L. Tell me something of your observations upon men 
and manners. Did you study them? 

A. In Italy my observations were entirely coniined to 
matter; there, nothing but eyes and memory are requisite; 
there we can reflect only upon the past. But in Switzerland, 
England and France we must seek for thinking beings, 
heads \\e\\ organized, and profound ideas. The French have 
grace, pleasing warmth, an eminent glow of coloring, and 
the art of chiaro oscuro; but the English excel them in geo- 
metrical and methodical reason, logic and depth. 

Mr. L. You ascertained all this in three months! Did 
you keep a journal? 

A. Yes; I scribbled six volumes. It is an unformed 
work, as you may suppose; I wrote with such rapidity] Nev- 



112 THE TRAVELER. 

ertheless there are fire, wit and originality in it. In Lon- 
don tliey persecuted me to print it, but I arn so modest I 

M. L. {aside). I never should have gaessed it! 

A. I brought some precious drawings from Italy, exqui- 
sitely finished. 

Mr. L. Then you paid attention to art? 

A. I have a passion for art, and am admitted to be a 
connoisseur in pictures. All my leisure in Rome was devoted 
to music and painting. I wrote a little essay on music, in 
which I proved that the Italians alone comprehended the 
grand effects of harmony; that they excel in purity of style 
and originality, and that in their most trivial efTorts we' find 
grace, elegance and exquisite motives. 

Mr, L. Since you are fond of music, will you go to the 
dravv^ing-room? My girls are there, and may amuse you with 
singing. 

A. The fair sex commands me always! I hasten to find 
your charming daughters! Aii revoir, (He goes out.) 

Mr. L, The coxcomb! Whowould have believed that a 
few months abroad would have so upset his brain! My head 
fairly spins with his whirl of words. 

Enter Joseph. 

/. Where is Albert? 

Mr. L. Gone to overwhelm your poor sisters. 

/. What shall we do with him for a month? 

Mr. L. Let him talk. Can you comprehend such exces- 
sive absurdity, coafidence and stupidity? 

/. It proves what you have so often told me, that a young 
man can have no greater charm than modesty. 

Mr. L. My dear boy, never forget tins lesson. You will 
meet with coxcombs, who have more intellect and breeding, 
but rest assured they are all alike at heart, governed only by 
the silliest vanity; devoid of generous sentiments, principle 
and respect for their superiors; arrogant and prone to lies; 
these are the vices common to all of them. Remember, that 
at your age no education can be completed; that the mind 
and brain need time and experience to become matured, and 
that a philosopher at sixteen is a presumptuous fooL (They 
go out.) 



TAKING THE CENSUS. 115 



TAKING THE CENSUS. 



CIIABACTUBS, 

Inquisitor. A Patient 3Ian, loiih pen^ ink and a large sheet 
r/pajjer, engaged in taking the census. 

Mrs. Touchwood. An old lady in frilled cap and set-sjjrig 
avvon^ engaged in giving it. 

Scene.— A house in the country, Mrs. Touchwood at a 
wash-tuh hard at work. 

Enter Inquisitor. 

Inquisitor. Good-morning, madam. Is the head of the 
family at home? 

Mrs. Touchwood. Yes, sir, I'm at home. 

Inq. Haven't you a husband? 

Mrs 2\ Yes, sir, but he ain't the head of the family, I'd 
have you to know. 

Inq. How many persons have you in jour family? 

Mrs. T. Why, bless me, sir, what's that to you? You're 
mighty inquisitive, I think. 

Inq. I'm the man that ta,kes the census. 

Mrs. T. If you was a man in your senses you wouldn't ask 
such impertinent questions. 

Inq. Don't be olf ended, old lady, but answer my questior^. 
as I ask them. 

Jfrs. T, ' 'Answer a fool according to his folly T' — you 
know what the Scripture says. Old lady, indeed I 

Inq. Beg your pardon, madam; but I don't care about 
hearing Scripture just at this moment. I'm bound to go ac- 
cordirig to law and not according to gospel. 

Mrs. T, I should think you went neither according to 
law nor gospel. What basiness is it to you to inquire into 
folk's affairs, Mr. Thingnm bob? 

Inq. The law makes it my business, good woman, and if 
you don't v\ ant to expose yourself to its penalties, you must 
answer m.y questions. 

Mrs. T. Oh, it's the law, is it? That alters the case. 
But I should like to know v,^hat the law has to do with other 
people's liousehold matters? 

Inq. Why, Congress made the law, and if it don't please 
you, you must talk to them aDout it. 



114 TAKING THE CENSUS. 

3£rs. T, Talk to a fiddlestick I Vv^hy, Congress is a fool 
and you're another. 

Inq. Now, good lady, you're a fine, good-looking woman; 
if you'll give me a few civil answers I'll thank you. What I 
wish to know first is, how many are there in your family? 

Mrs. T, ^LiBt me see {counting on her fingers); there's! and 
my husband is one 

Ijiq. Two, you mean. 

Mrs. T, Don't put me out, now. Mr. Thinkummy. There's 
1 and my husband i^ one 

Inq. Are you always one? 

Mrs. T. What's that to you, I should like to know. But 
I tell you, if you don't leave off interrupting me I won't say 
another word. 

Inq. Well, take your own way, and be hanged to you. 

Mrs. T. I will take my own way, and no thanks to you. 
(Again counting her fingers.) There's I and my husband is 
one: there's John, he's two; Peter is three, Sue and Moll 
are four, and Thomas is five. And then there's Mr. Jenkins 
and his wife and the two children is six; and there's Jowler, 
he's seven. 

Inq. Jowler! Who's he? 

Mrs. T. Who's Jowler! Why, who should he be but the 
old house dog? 

Inq. It's the number of persons I want to know. 

Mrs. T. Very well, Mr. Flippergin, ain't Jowler a person? 
Come here, Jowler, and speak for yourself. I'm sure he's as 
personable a dog as there is in the whole State. 

Inq. He's a very clever dog, no doubt. But it's the num- 
ber of human beings I want to know. 

Mrs- T. Human! There ain't a more human dog that 
ever breathed. 

Inq. W^ell, but I mean the two-legged kind of beings. 

3Irs. T. Oh, the two-legged, is it? AYell, then, there's 
the old rooster, he's seven:, the fighting-cock is eight, and 
the bantam is nine ■ 

Inq. Stop, stop, good woman, I don't want to know the 
number of your fowls. 

Mrs. T. I'm very sorry indeed, I can't please you. such a 
sweet gentleman as you are. Uut didn't you tell me — 'twas 
the two-legged beings 

Inq. True, but I didn't mean the hens. 

Mrs. T. Oh, now I understand you. The old gobbler, 
he's seven, the hen turkey is eight; and if you'll wait a week 
there'll be a parcel of young ones, for the old hen turkey is 
setting on a whole snarl of eggs. 

Inq. Blast your turkeys! 



TAKING THE CENSUS. 115 

Mrs, r. Oh, don't now, good Mr. Hipperstitcher, I pray 
you don't. They're as honest turkeys as any in the country. 

Inq, Don't vex me any more. I'm getting to be angry. 

jy'TS, T, Ha, ha, ha! 

Inq. {striding about the room in a rage). Have a care, 
madam, or I shall ily out of my skin. 

Mrs. T. If you do, I don't know who'll fly in. 

Inq. You do all you can to anger m^e. It's the two-legged 
creatures who talk'^I have reference to. 

Mrs. T. Oh, now I understand you. Well, then-, our Poll 
Parrot makes seven and the black gal eight. 

Inq. I see j^ou will have your own way. 

Mrs. T, You have just found out, have you! You are a 
smart little man! 

Inq. Have you mentioned the whole of your family? 

Mrs. T. Yes, that's the whole — except the wooden-headed 
man in front. 

Inq. Wooden-headed? 

Mrs. T. Yes, the schoolmaster what's boarding here, 

Inq. I suppose if he has a wooden head he lives without 
eating-, and therefore must be a profitable boarder. 

Mrs. T. Oh, no, sir, you are mistaken there. He eats 
like a leather judgment. 

Inq, How many servants are there in the family? 

Mrs. T. Servants! Wh}' , there's no servants but me and 
my husband. 

Inq. What makes you and your husband servants? 

3Irs. T. I'm a servant to hard work, and he is a servant 
to rum. He does nothing all day but guzzle, guzzle, guzzle; 
while I'm working, and slewing, and sweating from morning 
till night, and from night till morning. 

Inq. How many colored persons have you? 

Irlrs. T. There's nobody but Dinah the black girl, Poll 
Parrot and my daughter Sue. 

Inq, Is your daughter a colored girl? 

Mrs. T. 1 guess you'd think so if you was to see her. 
She's always out in the sun — and she's tanned up as black as 
an Indian 

Inq. How many white males are there in your family 
under ten years of age? 

3Irs. T. Why, there ain^t none now; my husband don't 
carry the mail since he's taken to drink so bad. He used to 
carry two, but they wasn't white. 

Inq. You mistake, good vv-oman; I meant male folks, not 
leather mails. 

Mrs, T. Let me see; there's none except little Thomas, 
and Mr. Jenkins' tvvo little girls. 

Inq. Males, I said, madam, not females. 



116 TAKING THE CENSUS. 

31rs. T. Well, if you don't like them you may leave 
them olf . 

Inq. How many white males are there between ten and 
twenty? 

3£ts. T. Wliy, there's nobody but John and Peter, and 
John ran away last week. 

Inq. How many white males are there between twenty 
and thirty? 

Mrs. T. Let me see— there's the wooden-headed man is one, 
Mr. Jenkins and his wife is two, and the black girl is three. 

Inq. No more of your nonsense, old lady; I'm heartily 
tired of it. 

Mrs. T. Hoity , toity ! Haven't I a right to talk as I please 
in my own house? 

Inq. You must answer the questions as I put them. 

Mrs. T. "Answer a fool according to his folly" — you're 
right, Mr. Hippogriff. 

Inq. How many white males are there between thirty 
and forty? 

Mrs. T. Why, there's nobody but I and my husband — 
and he was forty-one last March. 

Inq. As you count yourself among the males, I dare say 
you wear the breeches. 

Mrs. T. Well, what if I do, Mr. Impertinence? Is that 
anything to you? Mind j^our own business, if you please. 

lyiq. Certainly — I did but speak. How many white males 
are there between forty and fifty? 

Mrs. T. None. 

Inq. How many between fifty and sixty? 

Mrs. T. None. 

Inq. Are there any between this and a hundred? 

Mrs. T. None except the old gentleman. 

Inq. What old gentleman? You haven't mentioned any 
before. 

Mrs. T. Why, gramther Grayling — I thought everybody 
knew gramther Grayling — he's a hundred and two years old 
next August, if he lives so long — and I dare say he will, for 
he's got the dry wilt, and they say such folks never dies. 

Inq. Now give the number of deaf and dumb persons. 

Mrs. T, Why, there is no deaf persons, excepting hus- 
band, and he ain't so deaf as he pretends to be. When any- 
body axes him to take a drink of rum, if it's only in a whisper, 
he can hear quick enough. But if I tell him to fetch an 
armful of wood or feed the pigs or tend the griddle, he's as 
deaf as a horse-block. 

Inq. How many dumb persons? 

Mrs. T. Dumb! Why, there's no dumb body in the house 
except the wooden-headed man, and he never speaks unless 



i 



TAKIX^ 



117 



he's spoken to. To be sure, 1x13^ husband wishes I was dumb, 
but he can't make it out. 

Inq. Are there any manufactures carried on here? 

3Irs. T, None to speak on, except turnip-sausages and 
to\v cloth. 

Inq, Turnip-sausag-esI 

Mrs. T. Yes, turnip-sausages. Is there anything so won- 
derful in that? 

Inq. I never heard of them before. What kind of ma- 
chinery is used in making them? 

Mrs. T. Nothing but a bread-trough, a chopping-knife 
and a sausage filler. 

Inq. Are they made of clear turnips? 

Mrs. T. No\v you're terrible inquisitive. What would 
you give to know? 

Inq. I'll give you the name of being the most commuaica- 
tive and pleasant woman I've met with for the last half -hour. 

Mrs. T. Well, now, you're a sweet gentleman, and I must 
gratify you. You must knov^ avg mix with the turnip a little 
red cloth, just enough to give them a color, so they needn't 
look as if they were made of clear fat meat; then we chop 
them up well together, put in a little sage, .summer savory, 
and black pepper; and they make as pretty little delicate 
links as ever vras set on a gentleman's table; they fetch the 
highest price in the market. 

Inq. Indeed! Have you a piano in the house? 

Mrs. T. Apiany! What's that? 

Inq. A musical instrument. 

Mrs. T. Lor, no. But Sary Jane, down at the Corners, 
has one — you see. Sary got all highfalutin about the great 
Colushun down to Bosting, and down she went; an' when she 
came back the old man got no rest until she had one of the 
big square music boxes with white teeth- -'spose that's what 
you call a piany. 

Inq. You seem to know what it is, then. 

Mrs. T. Yes, sir. Have you anything more to ax? 

Inq. Nothing more. Good-morning, madam. 

Mrs. T. Stop a moment; can't you think of something 
else? Do now, that's a good man. Wouldn't you like to 
know what we're a-going to have for dinner; or how many 
chickens our old white hen hatched at her last brood: or 
how many 

Inq. Nothing more — nothing more. 

Mrs. T. Here, just look in the cupboard, and see how 
many red ants there are in the sugar-bowl; I haven't time 
to count them myself. 

Inq, Confound your ants and all your relations I 

{Exit in a huff.) 



lis THE PAPER DON'T SAY. 



THE PAPER DONT SAY. 



CHABACTEBS. 

Mr. Slocum, ) A T> 4' n 1 

Mrs. Slocum. \ ^ ^^^^^^^ <^^^^^^^' 

Scene — The porch of a country house, Mrs. Slocum knitting 
a blue stocking. Mr. Slocum reading the loeekly paper. 

Mr. S. I declare, wife, that was an awful accident over 
CO the mill. 

Mrs. S. What's it about, Mr. Slocum? 

Mr. S, I'll read the 'count, wife, and then you'll know all 
about it. (Beads.) Horrible and fatal accident. It becomes 
our melancholy and painful duty to record the particulars of 
an accident that occurred at the lower mill, in this village, 
yesterday afternoon, by which a human being, in the prime 
of life, was hurried to that bourne from which, as the im- 
mortal Shakespeare says, '*no traveler returns." 

Mrs. S. Du tell! 

Mr. S. Mr. David Jones, a workman who has but few 
superiors this side of the city, was superintending one of the 
large drums, — 

Mrs. S, 1 wonder if 'twas a brass drum, such as has JEplu- 
rihus JJnum printed on't. 

Mr. S. When he became entangled. His arm was drawn 
around the drum, and finally his whole body was drawn over 
the shaft at a fearful rate. When his situation was discov- 
ered, he had 'revolved with immense velocity about fifteen 
minutes, his head and limbs striking a large beam a distinct 
blow at each revolution. 

Mrs. S. Poor creature! how it must have hurt him! 

Mr. S. When the machinery had been stopped, it was 
found that Mr. Jones' arms and legs were macerated into 

jelly. 

Mrs. S. Yv^ell, didn't it kill him? {With increasiny interest.) 

Mr. S. Portions of the dura mater, cerebrum, and cerehel- 
luvi, in confused masses, were scattered about the floor; in 
short, the gates of eternity had opened upon him. ( Wipes 
his spectacles.) 

Mrs. S. Was the man killed? 

Mr. S. I don't know, haven't come to that place yet; 



i 



THE PAPER DON'T SAY. 



119 



pouM know when I have finished the piece. (Reads.) It 
ras evident, when the shapeless form was taken down, that 

vvas no loDg'er tenanted by the immortal spirit, that vital 
iparlv was exdnct. 

Mrs.S, Was the man killed? Tliat's what I want to 
^ome at. 

3lr. S. Do have a little patience. I presume we shall come 
ipon it right away. 

3Ii\ S. This fatal casualty has cast a gloom over cnr 
[Village, and we trust that it will prove a warning to all per- 
sons vvho are called upon to regulate the powerful machinery 
3f our mills. 

Mrs. iS. Now I should like to know whether the man was 
billed or not. 

3I}\ tS. {Looks puzzled, scratches head and scrutinizes paper.) 
|I declarej wife, it's cujious; but really, the paper don't say 



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T. S. DSHISOiT, Publisher. 
163 Randolph Street • ^ OHICAQa 



^he Favorite Speaiier 

By T. G. LA MOILLE and EUGEIE PARSOHS 

^^ COLLECTION of new pieces compiled with great care from the besi 
-^^^^ current literature of the day. Embraces a wide variety pathetic^ 
comic, patriotic, oratorical, in prose and poetry, in pleasing variety. 

if you don't Vv-ant to speak a piece, tbese selections are all good reading 
and worth remembering. There is not a trashy piece in the book. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

When the Lessons Are OVer 

By CLARA J, BEKTOri 

TfXyrEAV Dialogues, New Drills, New History Plays, Plays about Plants and 
-^ V Flowers, New Nuts to Crack in Public. This is a very popular book. 
Everything new. Thirty-one pieces, all original. 

Vricct paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

&he Patriotic Speaker 

Is Ho. 8 OF SCRAP-BOOK RECITATIONS, By H. M. SOPER 

MERE are found the master thoughts of the master minds. Selections 
mostly American, but some are from foreign sources. Good ior public 
epeftking or reading, for prize contests, or for the library. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

&he New Jolly Jester 

By HEIfRY L. WILLIAMS 

/^TrMlIS attractive book is a collection of the latest and best jokes. Inter- 
•^ spersed with short amusing anecdotes and funny stories. Nothing stale; 
a bright, new book of the keenest fun. A treasure of wit and humor and just 
the thing to drive away the "blues." Those in search of comic recitations 
will hnd good things. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

"Private Theatricals 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND 

^MATEUES will find this book indispensable. It tells just what you want 
-^^^ to know in brief space. It will enable you to give a successful enter- 
tainment instead of a failure. Scores of practical things are explained here 
which cannot be enumerated. This book is as necessary as the play itself 
to beginners. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

T. S* DE^NISON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St., CHICAGO 



I 



Black jimerican Joker 

Edited fey HENRY L. WILLIAMS 

ItK^ FI^'E coiiection of pieces suitable for End r-fen's dialogues in minstrel 
J^ shows. Wiierever a 'black lace" entertainment Is given this book will 
be found indispensable, Not a selection will be found objectionable. It Is 
the cream of darl^y humor. 

Trices paper coVer^ postpaid^ 25 cents 

J^egro Minstrels 

3y CHARLES TOWNSEIO) 
A capital neW hook ht; one Who knoWs 

WRITTEN by one who is competent to decide from experience just what 
is needed. It contains: How to Organize, How jNlany Men Needed, 
How to Arrange Programme. How to r^Ial^e Up, Rehearsals, Business of Inter- 
locutor and End Men, Conundrums, End ]\reu"3 Gags, Stump Speeches, Finales, 
What Negro Plays to Select, etc. An entirely new book. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

The Little Folks' "Budget 

By MARIE IRISH 

THE prettiest and best boolv for Tiny Folks yet published. The rhymes 
are appropriate to the sentiments and language of children, the "busi- 
ness" is natural and easy. The sayings are not too *"old." Full directions. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

Scrap^'Book Recitations 

By EENRY M. SOPER, 
President Soper Scliooi of Oratory 

rHE Scrap-Book Series steadily grows in popular favor. It embodies all 
shades of thought and feeling, humorous, i>athetic, oratorical, dramatic, 
")oetic. As its name indicates, it contains a large proportion of new matter. 
Kothing appears in any way objectionable to the most fastidious. 

"The selections are choice in quality and in large variety."— //z^^r Ocean, 
Chicago. 

"it excels 3.ny thing we have seen for the purpose."— ^c^^c^ic Teacher. 

"The latest and best things from our popular writers appear here."— 
Kormal Teacher. 

"The selections are fresh, pure and elevating," — Missouri Teacher. 

"Very bright and readable. A large proportion of good humor." — 
Teachers' Institute. 

13 numbers* Price per number, postpaid, 25 cents 

T. Se DENISON/ Publisher 

163 Randolph St„ CHICAGO 



jlll Sorts of Dialogues 

Selected by CLASA Jo DEI^TON 

nr^HESE dialogues for older pupils have been compiled from the writings of 
the most popular American authors. The book contains twenty-five dia- 
logues, also complete directions for presentation. Also contains a few pieces 
for little folks and special occasions! Arbor Day, Flower Day, Christmas, 

T\lrs. Denton has been very successful in suiting the popular taste. Her 
books are like the kernel of a nut— all meat. 

Prices paper coVer, postpaids 25 cents 

The Friday Afternoon Speaker 

J^ COLLECTION of popular pieces: For older boys and girls; for little 
folks; short pithy dialogues for boys and girls. The collection embraces 
a choice variety of humorous, pathetic and miscellaneous pieces. Several 
editions have been sold. New edition with some war pieces. 

" I am very much pleased with the ' Speaker,' which was received to-day. 
It is just what I wanted.*'— Ze/^^ie 31. Cummins, Woodstock, III. 
*-It is just suited to my purpose."— 6^60. W. Brooks, Dixon, Ky. 
Trice, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

Dialect "Bjeadings 

FOR READING OR SPEAKING, By H. M. SOPER 

^^rpHE richest humor of all ages lies in dialects, the language of those people 
who still speak strange tongues, and who are funny in spite of them- 
selves. The best specimens of the richest and most natural humor. Irish 
pieces, Dutch pieces, Xegro pieces, French pieces, Scotch dialect, Yankee dia- 
lect, Cockney dialect, Italian dialect, Heathen Chinee, etc. 

*Pricej paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

From Tots to Teens 

By CLARA J. DENTON 

^pHESE dialogues are intended to suit all sorts of young people, from the 
wee ones up to the oldest. For boys a2one, girls alone, for both sexes. 
PART I. For older boys and girls. 14 pieces. 
PART II. For the wee ones. 7 pieces. 
PART III. Keep the Holidays; Christmas; 4th of July; Washington's 

Birthday. 
PART IV. For wee ones to speak. 25 pieces. 

Trice, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

T. S. DENISON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St., CHICAGO 



One Hundred Entertainments 

For Parlor Use 

By CHARLOTTE W. EASTMAN 

i^S its name Indicates, this book has been prepared especially for parlor 
*^^ diversion. It contains an unlimited am.ount of amusement of every pos- 
sible liind. All the diversions have been tried under the supervision of the 
autbor. Only such materials are needed as m.ay be found at hand or easily 
supplied by the guests. It is impossible to describe here all these very amus- 
ing and original diversions. Get the book and you will be surprised. The 
most simple objects and incidents of daily life may be made highly amusing. 

Prices paper coVer, postpaid^ 25 cents 

The Best Drill Book 

Including the Most Tailing Drills and Marches 

By MARIE IRISH, Author of ^*Tlie Little Folks* Budget*' 

WHEN the manuscript of this book was sent in for examination I hesi- 
tated about publishing it because of the many Drill Books on the 
market. But its merit and its sales have amply justilied the title Best. 

'*! have used ' The Best Drill Book ' and find it far ahead of any oiher."— 
Mina Pearsons ^ Le VaUe, Wis. 

Prices paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents 

The "Poetical Entertainer 

The Old School House and Other Poems and Conceits 
in Verse 

By T. S. DENISON, Author of "An Iron Crown,'* '^Tlie Man BeMnd,'* "My 
Invisible Partner,** and thirty -six plays 

THIS book contains 58 original poems (finely illustrated). A great variety, 
divided into five sections: I. ]Miscellaneous Poems. II. Poems of Love. 
III. Poems of Travel. iV. Poems of War. V. The Tyrant Imm.ortal (a study). 
The last poem is suitable for labor organizations. \Tudging by the immense 
sale of Denison's plays this book will be a popular one. 

Prices fancy boards^ 50 cents 

The Comic Entertainer 

By E. L. WILLfAMS 

^^N up-to-date collection of the choicest humor. Such a variety in prose 
•^^^ and poetry as to suit almost any occasion= The boolv also contains four 
IVlonologues, two for male and two" for female characters ; also four Short 
Dialogues. Don't get this book for serious reading. Jt is afunn^' book from first 
page to last. It is not a collection of old clippings, but is almost all new matter. 

Price, paper coVer, postpaid, 25 cents, 

CM II M IThl -nri ^ r : : II I I 

T. S. DENISON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St., CHICAGO 



T. S. Denison's Writings 

in Iron Crown, an anti-monopoly novel, 4tli edition, cloth (Illus.). .. ^1.50 

The Man Beliind, 6th edition, cloth i . 50 

Paper 25 

My Invisible Partner, a novel, cloth 1 .00 

Friday Afternoon Dialogues, 31,000 sold 25 

Old Sclioollioiise and Other Poems and Conceits in Verse, cloth (Ilias.) l.oo 

Pla^S {457 MO sold) 

Tlie Assessor, sketch (10,000). SO. 15 

Borrowing: TrouMe, farce (15,000) , 15 

Tiie Col3Mer, monologue (2,000) _... .15 

Conyention of Papas (1,000) , . .15 

Country Justice? burlesque trial (11,000) ,..,., 15 

Danger Signal, drama (33,000).. 15 

Dude in a Cyclone, farce (2,000) 15 

Family Strike, farce (7,000) 15 

First Class Hotel, farce (3,000) 15 

Eans von Smash., farce (37,000) « 15 

Hard Cider, temperance sketch (6,000) „ 15 

InitiatiEg a Granger, farce (12,000) , .15 

Irish Linen Peddler, farce (27,000)...- 15 

Is the Editor In? farce (G,000) 15 

It's All in the Pay Streak, dram.a (2,000) 25 

Kansas Immigrants, farce (15,000) , .15 

Louva The Pauper, drama (34,000) 15 

Madame Princeton's Temple of Beauty (2,0010- ••' = 15 

Hew Woman, comedy (4,000)... 1*5 

Odds With Enemy, drama (12,000) 15 

Only Cold Teao sketch (2,000) ,. 15 

Only Daughter, drama (8, 000) .15 

Cur Country, historical play (6,000)..., 15 

Patsy O'Wang, farce (3,000)..... 15 

Pets cf Society^ farce (6,000). .0.. 15 

Pull -Back, farce (12,000)= 15 

Rejected, farce (2,000) 15 

School Ma'am, comedy (28.000).., 15 

Seth Greenback, drama (11,000) ,. .15 

Sparkling Cup, temperance play ( 12,000) . .15 

Too Much of a Good Thing, farce (31,000).... 15 

Tcpp- s Twins, comedy (4,000) 25 

Two Ghosts in White, farce (13,000) .15 

Under the Laurels, play (48,000).... 15 

Wanted, A Correspondent, farce (8,000) 15 

Wide Enough for Xwo^ farce (22,000),.. 15 

T, S. DENISON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St., CHICAGO 



WINTOJNG FiMRS 




PRICE a5« 
T.S.DENISON 

JBLiSHER CHICACO 



Twinkling fingers and 
Swaging Figures 

By CLARA J. DEHTOB Jiusic ty W. C. PARKER. 
ILLTJSTEATEB. 



GF.M 01 : 






nplay? and 


song-. 






> ones ever 

Lre such as 

:' Simple anc 

^ aere are sis 


- - i : 1 i . 1^ -J^'^J .-- -.. L 




.. ::-_~_.l .1^' I 


>^. ^un? to them 


In.s is a book 


lor 


the nome, 


the School, the 



nevr tunes, and other pic.c- 
afordiRiC much variety, ''ii 
Kindergarten, or Exhibitlcns. 

Trice, Taper CoVer, Postpaidj 25 Cents. 

Mother Goose's Goslings 

Tp)LAY containing songs with music, byEiizaheth T. Giiptill; r ' " ■ -. 

^ Time, 30 m. P2as\' to present. No scenery, costumes simp" 
never tire of Mother" Goose melodies, and never have they : . .... r 
arranged f :t an entertainment. This Is a lively little play, full or lun and 
sure to ma k.e a hit. 

Trice, Tostpaid, 15 Cents. 

The Old Maids' Club 

/f^OMIG entertainment in otlq scene, by Marie Butterfield; 2 m... 16 f. 
^^ 'lime, about IVo h. C'>stames old-maidish and grotesque. The clu'o is 
organized to secure husbP'.ds. and the recital of their adventures in ihe cbase 
is very funnj'. Just th** (hing for a church or woman's club entertainme*~;i. 
Easy to produce aD^l ^ money-maker. An evening of refined, hilarious fun. 

Trice, Tostpaid, 25 Cents. 

The Gruff Judge and Happtj 
Santa Claus 

('T^HRISTMAS cantata, libretto by Fanny E. Newberry, ,.:. 
^^^=^ Towne: 6 m., 5 f. Cnorus of boys and girls, Scenes: Siu: 
Santa Glaus (bass). Mrs. Fry, the Judge's housekeeper (soprano 

ning. a poor widow (alto). Bessie. MA^^ie a-cl ;V;,ce (soprano -.,:;. 

Judge Sterne (tenor). Zeke. his so e vridow's soxi. rlarvy 

(tenor".. Joe. a boy. Gostumes ^- :. clever plot and very 

pleasing music. 

Trice, Tostpaid, 30 Cents. Six Copies, $1.25. 



T. S. DENiSON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St., CHICAGO 



Wide Awake dialogues 

By T. S. BEHJSOlsr 

Anther of **Jhe Friday Afterncan Dialogues -» 
and 40 Plays 

HALF A MILLIOIf BOOKS SOLD. 



CONTENTS (28 pieces) : Barring Out the Teacher. 
Bachelor Girls' Club. Becky Calico. Bootblack, The. 
Boy Who Was a Coward. Caniera Obscura, The. Dur- 
bar, The. Fred's Visit to Town. Going to California 
Gold Brick, The. Gossipers, The. Got a New Suit. Lady Novelist, The. 
Lemonade Stand. Monkey and Madstone. New Boy in School. Old Photo- 
graph Album. Playing Married. Seance, The. Sea Serpent vs. Mermaid. 
Sitting Up for Husbands to Come Home. Slow Beau and Fast Beau. Stolen 
Pocketbook. Stolen Sweets. Stolen Watermelons, Trying the New Teacher. 
What Bird Would You Be? When I Am a W^oman. 

Fresh subjects, some for boys alone, some for girls, some for both. 

Price^ Paper CoVer, Postpaid, 25 Cents. 




^^ 



The Surprise Drill 
Book 

By MARIE IRISH, 
Author ol **TiLQ Best Brill Boo]£.»» 

New Drills with Diagrams and Full instructions. 
Fresh, Striking", and Sure to Please. 

CONTENTS: Bell and Belle Drill. Burlesque Flower 
Drill. Clown Drill. Contest of the Cans. Doll's Les- 
son, March and Motion Song. Elephant Drill. Father 
Goose's Convention. Father Time's Reception. Ghost 
March. Handkerchief Drill, Burlesque. Hayseed Drill. Heart or Star Drill. 
Japanese Lantern Drill. March of the Pinks. Rose Drill. Gun Drill. Holly 
Drill. Popcorn Drill. March of the Pilgrims. Suggestions for Fancy March- 
ing. Sunbonnet Drill. Wand Flag Drill. The Witches, Song and March. 

Price, Paper CoVer, Postpaid^ 23 Cents, 




T. S. OENJSON 



VV&i.lSn£R 



T. S. DENISON, Publisher 

163 Randolph St.. CHICAGO 



DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS. 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price is Given. 



FARCES AND SKETCHES. 

M. F. 

Assessor, sketch, 10 min 3 2 

April Fools, 80 min 3 

BadJob, 30 min 3 2 

Bardell vs. Pickwick, 25 min... 6 2 

Beautiful Forever, 30 min 2 2 

Betsy Baker, 45 min 2 2 

Blind Margaret, musical, 30 m. 3 3 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min... 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 25 min 3 5 

Box and Cox, 35 min 2 1 

Breezy Call, 25 min 2 1 

Bumble's Courtship, 18 min... 1 1 

cabman No. 93, 40 min 2 2 

C.'Tistmas Ship, musical, 20 m. 4 3 

Gobbler, 10 min 10 

Convention of Papas, 25 min. .. 7 

Country Justice, 15 min 8 

Cow That Kicked Chicago, 20 

min 3 2 

Cut Ott" with a Shilling, 25 min. 2 1 

Deception, 30 min 3 2 

Desperate Situation, 25 min. . . 2 3 

Documentary Evidence, 25 min. 1 1 

Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min 5 3 

Fair Encounter, sketch, 20 min. 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-ClassHoteL 20 min 4 

Freezing a Mother-in-Law, 45 

min 3 2 

Great Medical Dispensary, 30 

min 6 

Hans \'on Smash, 30 min 4 3 

Hard Cider, temperance, 15 m.. 4 2 

Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 

Homoeopathv, Irisn, 30 min.... 5 3 

I'll Stay Awhile, 20 min 4 

I"m Not Mesilf at All, 25 min.. 3 2 

Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. . 8 

in the Wrong House, 20 min. . . 4 2 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min. . 3 3 

Is the Editor in? 20 min 4 2 

John Smith, 30 min 5 3 

Just My Luck, 20 min 4 3 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min 5 1 

Kiss in the Dark, 30 min 2 3 

Larkin's Love Letters, 50 min.. 3 2 

Lend Me Five Shillings, 40 min. 5 2 

Limerick Boy, 30 min 5 2 

Little Black Devil, 10 min 2 1 

Love and Rain, sketch, 20 min. 1 1 

Lucky Sixpence, 30 min 4 2 

Lucy's Old Man, sl^etch, 15 m. 2 3 
Madame Princeton's Temple of 

Beauty, 20 min 6 

Mike Donovan, 15 min 1 3 

Misses lieers, 25 min 3 3 

Mistake in Identity, 15 min... 2 

Model of a Wife, 25 min 3 2 

Mrs. Gamp's Tea, sketch, 15 m. 2 

My Jeremiah, 20 min .. 3 2 

My Lord in Liverv, 45 min 4 3 

My Neighbor's Wife, 45 min. ... 33 



M. r. 

My Turn Next, 50 min 4 3 

Narrow Escape, sketch, 15 m... 2 

Not at Home, 15 min 2 

Obstinate Family, 40 min 3 3 

On Guard, 25 min 4 2 

Only Cold Tea, 20 min 3 3 

Outwitting the Colonel, 25 m.. 3 2 

Patsy O' Wang, 35 min 4 3 

Pat the Apothecary, 35 min 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 35 min. 6 3 

Pets of Society, 30 min. 7 

Played and Lost, sketch, 15 m. 3 2 

Pull-Back, 20 min 6 

Quiet Family, 45 min 4 4 

Realm of Time, musical, 30 min. 8 15 

Regular Fix, 50 min 6 4 

Rejected, 40 min 5 3 

Rough Diamond, 40 rain 4 3 

Row in Kitchen and Politician's 

Breakfast, 2 monologues.. . 1 1 

Silent Woman, 25 min 2 1 

Slasher and Crasher, 1 hr. 15 m. 5 2 

Taming a Tiger, 20 min 3 

That Rascal Pat, 35 min 3 2 

To Oblige Benson, 45 min 3 2 

Too Much for One Head, 25 m.. 2 4 
Too Much of a Good Thing, 50 

min 3 6 

Treasure from Egypt, 45 min.. 4 1 

Trick Dollar, 30 min 4 3 

Turn Him Out, 50 min 3 3 

Twenty Minutes Under Um- 
brella, sketch, 20 min 1 1 

Two Bonnycastles, 45 min 3 3 

Two Gay Deceivers, 25 min .... 30 

Two Gents in a Fix, 20 min 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 25 min. . 8 

Twoof a Kind, 40min .. 2 3 

Two Puddifoots. 40 min 3 3 

Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. .'J 2 

Very Pleasant Evening, 30 min 3 

Wanted: a Correspondent, 1 hr. 4 4 

Wanted; a Hero, 20 min 1 1 

W^hich Will He Marrv? 30 min. 2 8 

White Caps (The),musical, 30m. o 8 

Who is Who, 40 min 3 2 

Who Told the Lie? 30 min,.... 5 3 

Wide Enough for Two. 50 min. 5 2 

Woman Hater (The), 30 min... 2 1 

Wonderful Letter, 25min 4 2 

Wooing Under Difficulties, 35 

min 4 3 

Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 



The publisher believes that he can 
say truthfully that Denison's list of 
plays is on the w^hole the best se- 
lected and most successful in th^ 
market, ^''ew Flays will be addea 
from time to time. 

For Ethiop'.an Plays see Catalogue 



T. S. DENISON, Publisher, 163 Randolph St., Chicago. 




CHOICE PLAYS AND AMUS 022 204 629 4 



■ 



Plays by T. S. DENISON. 

That the plays written by T. S. 
Denison are, all things considered, 
the best for amateurs, is attested by 

their very large and increasing sale. 
New plays in this type. 

COMEDIES. M. F. 
Odds with the Enemy, 4 acts, 1 

hr. 45 min 7 4 

Seth Greenback, 4 acts, 1 hr. 

15 min.. 7 3 

The School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1 hr. 

45 min 6 5 

Only Daughter, 3 acts, Ihr. 15m. 5 2 

Louva, the Pauper, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 9 4 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts. 2 hrs. 5 4 

Danger Signal, 2 acts, Ihr. 45m. 7 4 
Our Country, Historical Play, 

3acts, Ihr 10 5 

Topp's Twins, 4 acts, 2 hrs 6 4 

It's all in Pay Streak, 3 acts, 1 

hr. 40 min 4 3 

The New Woman, 3 acts, 1 hr.. 3 6 

FARCES. 

Initiating a Granger, 25 rain.. . 8 
Wanted: a Correspondent, 2 acts, 

45 min 4 4 

A Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min.. 8 

The Assessor, 10 min 3 2 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 

Country Justice, 20 min 8 

The Pull-Back, 20 min 6 

Hans von Smash, 2 acts, 30 min. 4 3 
Irish Linen Peddler, 2 acts, 40 

min 3 3 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min 5 1 

Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Is the Editor In? 20 min.. 4 2 

Pets of Society, 20 min 7 

Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 

Rejected, 40 min 5 3 

A First=Clas» Hotel, 20 min. . ..4 
Madame Princeton's Temple of 

Beauty, 20 min 6 

Dude in Cyclone, 20 min ....... 53 

The Cobbler, 10 min 10 

A Convention of Papas, 25 min. 7 

TEMPERANCE. 

The Sparkling Cup. 5 acts, 2 hrs. 12 4 

Hard Cider, 10 min 4 2 

Only Cold Tea, 20 min 3 3 

^"Topp's Twins, and It's All in 

the Pay Streak, 25c each. All 
others, 15c each, Postpaid 
OPERETTAS. 

Bonnybell 25c. 

Elma, the Fairy Child 25c. 

Eulalia 25c. 

Let Love But Hold the Key . . . . 25c. 

Pocahontas 15c. 

Large Catalogue Free. 



DIALOGUES. 
Friday Afternoon Dialos^ues. 

Twenty-live original pieces... 25c. 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 
New, fine for older pupils 25c. 

When the Lessons are Over. 
New Dialogues, Drills, Plays.. 25c. 

Dialogues from Dickens. 
Thirteen Selections 25c. 

From Tots to Teens. 
Dialogues for youths, chil- 
dren, little tots, pieces for 
special occasions 25c. 

SPEAKERS. 
Poetical Entertainer. 

New original poems for all 

occasions (bound), illustrated. 50Cv 
Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For pupils of all ages 25c. 

Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry 25c. 

Comic Entertainer. 

Comic recitations, finales, 

monologues, dialogues, etc.... 25g. 
Choice Pieces for Little People. 25c. 
Patriotic Speaker. 

Selections from best authors. . 25c. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc., 25c. 
Scrap^Book Recitations. 

Choice collections, pathetic, 

humorous, descriptive, prose, 

poetry. 13 Nos., per No. . 25c. 

SPECIALTIES, Entertainments, etc. 

Best Drill Book. 

Taking Drills and Marches. . 25c. 
Little Folk's Budget. 

Best book for tiny folks 25c. 

Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes. 

Charades, and how to prepare, 25c. 
School and Parlor Tableaux. 

For school, church and parlor, 25c. 
Wax Figgers of Mrs. Jarley. 

With full directions. . 25c. 

Private Theatricals. 

Selecting plays, cast, rehear- 
sals, rain, lightning, etc 25c. 

Negro Minstrels. 

Tells the whole thing 25c. 

Black American Joker. 

For minstrel shows . . . . 25c. 

New Jolly Jester. 

Full of the keenest fun 25c. 

Work and Play. 

A gem of a book for children. 25c. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials, 25c. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Games, puzzles, shadows 25c. 

Social Card Games. 

Complete manual ..W... 25c. 

Debater's Handbook (clotfe) .... 50c. 

Good Manners .« 25c. 

Everybody's Letter Writer. . . . 25c. 



DENISON, Publisher, 163 Randolph St., Chicago. 



